


Gryffindor’s Girl

by carloabay



Series: At Her Own Peril [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Sirius Black, Blood and Injury, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Nonbinary Character, Other, Pansexual Remus Lupin, Unrequited Crush, Yaxley is gay no I don’t take criticism, the slowest burn you'll see on here, they’re all so very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 40
Words: 119,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21772564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay
Summary: Io Brewsam should be in Ravenclaw like the pure-blooded side of her family. She should follow the rules like her brothers. She should be a prefect like her father. She shouldn’t play Quidditch, she shouldn’t mess around with Hogwarts most infamous troublemakers, and she definitely shouldn’t be friends with Muggle-borns. At least according to her mother. But Io decided a long time ago that her mother’s opinion was worth less than a pile of horse manure.It's fifth year. Io Brewsam is sixteen, and there's something Dark on the horizon.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Original Male Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Original Character(s), Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Male Character(s)
Series: At Her Own Peril [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767763
Comments: 113
Kudos: 52





	1. Music Has Healing Power

**Author's Note:**

> My OC is Iona Brewsam, plus a few others not yet added.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Morrigan-Brewsams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm mostly only posting this because I couldn't find the kind of story I wanted, by the way, so I decided to make my own  
> Quite short, soz

“Blue jean baby...” Io ran her fingers expertly over the grand piano in her parent’s second floor drawing room, singing softly to the grey cat cleaning his toes while laid across the music stand. “LA lady...” The light from the windows was weak and golden, the dregs of August giving in to autumn. “Seamstress for the band...” The cat yawned wide, his pink tongue curling delicately. “Pretty eyed, pirate smile...” Two floors below, in the basement kitchen, Cassidy Morrigan-Brewsam wailed like a grieving widow, occasionally breaking her crying to scream angrily at her husband. Io played a little louder. “You’ll marry a music man...” The cat rested his head on his paws and watched Io’s hands play up and down the keys. The large drawing room door creaked heavily open, letting in the tirade of noise from below, then shut again as Io sung the next few words. “Ballerina! You must have seen her...dancing in the sand...” She inflected her best American accent into it as her ten year old sister Moira Daisy crept up beside her, crouched to crawl underneath the piano and curled up against Io’s legs. “And now she’s in me, always with me, tiny dancer...in my hand...” The cat purred and closed his eyes as Io launched into the instrumental, her gaze drifting to Daisy’s curly head that was buried in between her thin knees. Downstairs, a door slammed so hard the entire house shook, making Io hit a wrong note. The cat’s eyelids sprung open indignantly and Daisy whimpered, collapsing into herself even more. The screaming had stopped. Io’s playing petered out and Daisy looked up fearfully.

“They were fighting again,” she whispered, a hiccup interrupting her halfway through. Io’s stomach dropped. Their mother had been on a knife edge all summer because of her husband, snapping more than usual and whirling about the house in a constant state of worry. He’d started only recently to get cold feet about Cassidy’s numerous gatherings, occasionally offering rebelling opinions against their views and often causing Cassidy to drag him away from parties in shame. They all feared the worst, that her friends were part of those violent terrorist groups calling themselves terrifying names, but Cassidy feared something else. That she might be shunned for her family’s simple existence, a half-blooded rebellion against the views of those people.

And then there was the case of Daisy’s nonexistent accidental magic. Daisy had never expressed any magical ability, and this worried their mother, maybe even more than her husband’s family tree, seeing as Daisy’s acceptance letter would either be coming or not that very next year. Her husband had done little to ease her fears, considering he had been staying out of her way for the last few months, now blatantly dodging her get-togethers with her pure blood friends and sometimes even sleeping at the Ministry, where he worked as part of the Wizengamot. Io missed him, and now that she assumed he’d left the house by the sound of her mother’s light feet coming up the stairs, she knew there was only her left to defend Daisy against their mother. She wouldn’t stand to have a Squib in the family and they all knew it, but Io’s older brother, Arule, was timid and acceptant of Cassidy’s rage and Gale, the eldest, could never stand to see them all argue. Now it was Gale the peacemaker, Arule the coward, Io the stubborn fighter and Daisy the victim. It used to be Daisy the bystander. How she wished it still was.

Io watched the light from the window dance around on the plush blue drawing room carpet, warped by the massive oak tree growing outside in their huge back lawn. Io glanced out of the massive, ceiling-high windows at the expanse of land outside their house, then at the pink, fading sunset. Their mother had started on the second set of stairs now and Daisy was staring at the drawing room doors as if they’d suddenly burst open and reveal their mother, fire in her eyes and wand in her hand. Io turned back to the piano and played a few notes, picking up the tune again.

“Only you and you can hear me, when I say softly...slowly...” Daisy looked up and Io smiled comfortingly, turning it to a grin as she launched into the chorus. “Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway...” the piano pressed a few notes for her, putting in a harmony under her tune. “Lay me down in sheets of linen. You’ve had a busy day today...” Their mother’s footsteps were quick and irritable. Io could tell she hadn’t gotten all her anger out yet. She was drawing closer. Io played the instrumental and the cat rolled onto his belly with a contented sigh. “Hold me closer, tiny dancer...count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen...” The huge drawing room doors opened once again, more violently this time, and their mother stormed through them, trailing Dibble, one of the houselves.

“Stop that, Iona,” she snapped, her Irish accent twanging irritably. Io kept playing, pretending not to hear her and Dibble started going about the room with a duster, apparently oblivious to the argument. Her mother marched over to the piano and slammed the lid shut, just missing Io’s fingers as she yanked them back and scaring the cat into a leap onto Io’s shoulder. The piano gave a sad tinkle and fell silent. Io scowled at the piano lid. “How many times have I told you to stop playing that filthy rubbish?” Cassidy hissed. Knowing answering back would only make it worse, Io kept her mouth shut. Cassidy grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly from the piano stool, shoving her towards the door. “Go and help the elves with supper. And if I catch you on that piano again this holiday, I will break your insolent fingers.” Io stared at her angry mother sullenly. “Get out. Moira, what are you doing under there?”

“Nothing,” Daisy replied in a small voice. Cassidy grabbed her by the collar of her romper and hauled her out, sending her stumbling across the room with a hard cuff to the head. Still bristling, Cassidy made as if to go to her, but Io stepped into her path, arms crossed and the cat perched on her shoulder. Her mother narrowed her eyes, then stepped around her and whisked to the door, her skirts rustling like the feathers of a peacock.

“Kitchen,” she snapped over her shoulder, before whirling around the corner and down the stairs.

“Mistress is going out,” Dibble explained from his perch on the cushioned windowsill as he struggled to draw the heavy velvet drapes. Daisy helped him, wiping her nose on her sleeve and trembling slightly.

“Where’s she going?” Io asked, eyes still on the doorway. Dibble shrugged delicately and climbed down from the windowsill, flinging his dusting cloth over his thin shoulder and rearranging the rough sacking that he wore like an oversized vest.

“I does not know, Miss.“ Io looked down at Daisy, sat on the window seat and wiping her pale, tear-stained face. She walked over and sat beside her, brushing a golden curl back from her sister’s face. Golden, fair, and pretty as a picture. Daisy was the favourite child, far more agreeable than wild, Quidditch-loving, angry Io. Little face always angelic, never with the frown crease that sat between Io’s eyebrows, cheeks pink with health and laughter, not red with shame, those big green Morrigan eyes instead of her older sister’s slate grey Brewsam pair. A perfect Irish beauty. Io loved her like everyone else. But it was so unusual for Cassidy to take her anger out on Daisy that Io really feared for her sister when she wouldn’t be there to protect her. School started in two days, hundreds of miles away. Arule would be going with her and Gale was leaving for his job at MACUSA that very next morning. Io sighed and Daisy dragged her arm across her face and looked up. Io pulled a face and grabbed her small hand, then hopped off the window seat and pulled her down.

“Shall we?” She asked, acting as imperious as possible. “I believe master Dibble here requires some help in the kitchen.” She offered an arm down to Daisy, who giggled and took it.

“I believe he does,” Daisy replied, curtseying extravagantly. Io grinned at her and they swept out of the door, followed by Dibble.


	2. September 1st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io finally leaves home, but a shocking revelation won't let her relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first two chapters switched somehow so I had to unswitch them and redo a ton of stuff and ugh it was a whole thing

September the first dawned cold and bright, so bright it seared through Io’s curtains and right onto her face. She jerked awake at six o’clock in the morning from a nightmare and sat bolt upright, heart thundering. Once her sleep-inebriated brain had assured her that she was not, indeed, falling from Tower Bridge as it burned with Daisy atop and Death Eaters swooping around, only then did she slump back onto her pillows. The clock above her desk ticked quietly: a proper Muggle one with batteries that unfortunately didn’t work at Hogwarts, but fortunately did piss her mother off quite a bit. The dream was fading, thankfully, but it only made her feel more guilty about leaving Daisy. Usually when she was at school, their mother would parade her beautiful youngest daughter around all her politically blood-racist friends, ignoring heritage topics and cooing over Arule’s success and Daisy’s Morrigan eyes. Yes, Morrigan. Io’s real name was Iona Sorcha Cassidy Morrigan-Brewsam, one she despised with a passion and had renounced when she was nine years old. But there would be no parties this term, not with the shame of her husband hanging over her head, and if there were, she certainly wouldn’t be bringing along a suspected Squib.

Io pushed the covers away and dropped out of her high-set bed. Her room was large, thanks to the big house in Turpford that her mother had inherited from her mother, but freezing most of the time, as the only source of heat was the small fireplace opposite the foot of her bed and she usually left the window open for Elwood, her owl. Dibble had obviously recently replenished the fire, as it was just starting to blaze. She looked over her room, wondering if she’d forgotten anything. Her trunk lay open at the foot of her bed and her broom stood next to it, polished and ready for term. Elwood, still only an owlet, cheeped from his open cage and tucked his head under his wing and Jude lay purring in deep sleep at the end of the bed. Her robes were folded on top of her clothes, her wand was on her nightstand, her dorm decorations were in her trunk, and there was a hollow pit in her stomach. Gale was leaving for America today by Portkey in the nearby wizarding town of Brew-on-the-Wold, and she and Arule would be taken by Ministry chauffeurs from Shipton-under-Wychwood to Kings Cross to start the new term. Arule, annoyingly, was already on his Head Boy drive, determined to beat his Hufflepuff competitor, Andrew Yeung, and Io knew that this term, Quidditch Captain was Gryffindor Gwenog Jones, a notoriously incredible Quidditch Beater who had already been scouted for three different national teams in her sixth year alone. Quidditch was going to be gruelling.

For some reason, Io had received no letters that holiday. She knew Alice and Lily didn’t own owls and Marlene was away in Marrakech for the whole summer, but she’d at least expected a letter from Peter or Remus. The boys either hadn’t bothered to write to her, or her mother had somehow intercepted every single letter. And her friends Zel, Lucy, Min and Immi had promised to see her that summer, but nothing had happened. As it was, she was lonely, guilty and longing for freedom all at the same time.

Io made her way down two flights of wide wooden stairs barefoot, avoiding the places she knew would give her splinters, then went down into the warm basement kitchen, where the cook houself Sooke was already making breakfast.

“Good morning, miss,” Sooke burbled merrily, flipping over some bacon. Gale was seated at the kitchen table in his new MACUSA robes, wolfing down jam on toast, the Daily Prophet in one hand and his suitcase on the seat beside him. Io slid into a seat across from him and waited for him to notice her. He did that a lot recently; being so absorbed in his work and his stress, he didn’t really ever look up from the paper or his reports or rifling through his case.

“Morning. What’s new in the Prophet, Gae?” Gale looked up and smiled tiredly at her. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days: brown hair a wilted mess, bags under his blue eyes.

“A Muggle-born got beaten up by a gang in Birmingham, and a group of people are marching through Boston’s Ministry Headquarters, demanding blood equality,” he listed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yikes. Might wanna fix up before you leave for America, by the way. You look like shit.”

“I’ll do,” he replied, folding the paper in half. “Off to Hoggy’s, then?” Io yawned.

“In a bit. You know calling it Hoggy’s makes it sound like you’re secretly eighty years old.” He gave a strained laugh and stood from his seat, picking up his case.

“I didn’t know that, actually. I’ll go say goodbye to Arule and Moira, then I’m off. Have a good time, huh? Don’t get detention and all that.”

“Easy for you to say,” Io muttered. “At least you don’t get called a blood traitor seven times a day.” Gale shifted nervously.

“Uh—yes, I suppose. Well, bye then.”

“Bye,” Io replied gloomily as Gale left. He used to be so much more fun. Sooke dropped a plate of bacon in front of her and she picked at it with a fork. She didn’t really have an appetite. This letter thing was eating her whole and setting her knee tapping with anxiety. She couldn’t wait to see her friends, but what if they didn’t want to see her? It was an idiotic worry, but it was there and it only added to her frayed nerves. Io frowned at her bacon. Once she’d played some Quidditch and hexed someone, she’d feel better, but this year was O.W.L.s year, and the teachers had been promising shedloads of work all throughout fourth year. She wasn’t particularly worried, to be honest, as she was fairly bright, but she couldn’t help picturing long evenings working in the library while perfect flying conditions taunted her from the windows. 

The opening and closing of the front door above startled her out of her stupor and she sat up straighter, clutching the hem of her t-shirt. Was her father back? Heavy feet hit the stairs in an odd rhythm and she flew from her seat to open the door. And there he was, in yesterday’s robes, sleep deprived and messy and looking so much like his eldest son. Io flung her arms around him.

“Alright?” He mumbled into her shoulder. He smelt like dust. Io let go of him, utterly relieved.

“Where have you been?” She asked, her voice worriedly shrill. “You just up and left, I didn’t know what had happened! I thought—” what had she thought? That he’d been jumped in some dark alley by a gang of murderous Death Eaters?

“Well, I’m alright. It’s okay. Sit down, have breakfast. Who’s taking you to London?” He guided her to her chair and sat down beside her, but she wasn’t totally satisfied with just that.

“But where did you go? What happened?”

“I just had to take some time away, Io. Eat your breakfast. Have you packed? Where’s your brother?”

“Dad, really, it’s six am. He’s probably busy practicing his Head Boy acceptance speech.” They both snorted a little and Io felt better, safer. He was fine, he was here. He could look after Daisy.

“Seriously though, who is taking you to London?”

“Ministry car,” she mumbled through a mouthful of bacon, her appetite returning. He nodded.

“Right, right. Car. And where’s your mother?” Io shrugged.

“Left last night after you. Ask Dibble.” Her father’s brow creased to a frown.

“She didn’t come back?” He mused. Io put her fork down and looked him in the eye. His hair fell weakly over his forehead. He look so weary.

“Dad. Please, tell me what’s going on. Daisy was scared out of her wits last night.” He only look down at where his hands were knotted on the table and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get so heated. I promise we’ll work this out,” he replied sincerely, head bent a little. Io picked up her fork and stabbed at her bacon.

“I don’t want promises, Dad. I want Daisy safe and Mum away from the people whose kids called me racist names, okay? That’s what I want. And I want a lot of other shit too, like maybe people who have it worse than me to be safe, or kids who don’t have to learn the Shield Charm in first year for fear of being hexed ‘cause they’re Muggleborn, or maybe world peace or something, you know?” She tilted her head so she could look him in the eye. What was he, afraid? Helpless? Out of his depth? She never knew anymore.

“I know. Maybe I’ll stick with the stuff I can do.”

“Maybe start with letting Daisy see her Grampa for the first time in her life,” Io replied angrily, shovelling bacon into her mouth. Her father looked over and she swallowed the meat, blinking away the tears that had suddenly and unexpectedly sprung up. Merlin, why was she crying? School hadn’t even started yet and she was stressed out of her mind.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Next time I’ll know you mean it when you resolve your issues instead of walking out on your kids again.” She picked up her plate and swung off the seat, leaving him sitting at the table. Did she feel guilty? The crying had embarrassed her, no doubt, and that was why she’d struck out at him out of the blue, but really, she knew he deserved it.

******************************************

Io slammed her fist onto Arule’s door three times, knocking hard enough to wake the dead. Her trunk was downstairs and she and the chauffeur had been waiting for Arule for twenty minutes.

“Get up! We gotta leave!” The door clicked open and Arule peered out owlishly, then scowled at her. Blond, pale, freckled, large blue eyes. A lot of the girls loved him, for some reason. Io had never figured out why. He stooped perpetually and told people off and wore bloody black-framed reading glasses. And he was a giant nerd. He fancied himself an inventor, but she wasn’t sure how he was ever going to pitch an idea if he couldn’t even form an opinion against his own mother. All he did was sit in his room and chuck stuff around, by the sound of it.

“What do you want?” His voice was stupidly gravelly, too.

“We’re leaving, prodigy. Are you packed?” He made a face and started to close the door.

“Whatever.” Io put her foot in the way.

“Don’t give me attitude. Are you or aren’t you?”

“I’m getting there.”

“What the hell? Getting there? What have you been doing all morning?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean? I heard you rattling around like an elephant on a tricycle at about half six. It’s a miracle you didn’t raise Babbity Rabbity from the dead.”

“Babbity Rabbity’s a fairy tale, and if you must know, I was making self-lighting fireworks.”

“What the bloody hell were you making fireworks for?”

“For the Minister’s christening,” he said saracastically. “It’s a new invention, idiot. Now leave me alone, apparently I’ve got to pack.” He started to shut the door and Io moved her foot out of the way before he broke it. The door slammed in her face and she scowled.

“You are never going to get Head Boy!” She yelled at the closed door. He didn’t answer.

****************************

They left so late the Ministry car had to drive at least three times the speed limit down the motorway, zipping around other drivers and zooming tightly round bends. After the first few minutes, Io was starting to feel a little sick.

“This is most definitely your fault,” she grumbled, stomach churning. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Daisy and Dad.”

“Alright, alright. Can you shut your owl up before I go insane?”

“No,” Io snapped, but she did have to admit, Elwood was being a little annoying. He was bouncing against the walls of his cage and shrieking to be let out. Apparently he didn’t like car rides. Jude sat on her lap, eyeing Elwood menacingly and cleaning his whiskers.

“You know you’re not allowed two pets, right?”

“I know.”

“So...dump the owl out the window?” Io just scowled at him. A silence settled.

“What’s with Dad and Mum, by the way?” Io asked nonchalantly.

“What, you didn’t know?”

“I don’t eavesdrop, Pinocchio.”

“Pinocchio was the one that told lies.”

“Whatever. What’s going on?”

“I think Dad lost his job,” Arule said casually. Io turned her head so fast she almost got whiplash.

“What?” Her stomach felt like it was sinking, her heart rising to her throat. Or maybe that was the car sickness. “Why?”

“Disagreed with the Minister, wanted to sentence someone to Azkaban.”

“Who? Why?” Why was he so calm about this?

“Some pure blood guy called Unctus who got accused of Muggle-baiting or some shit. Dad thought he was a Death Eater and he caused a scene.”

“Wait, Unctus...”

“Yeah, Mum’s friend. He got two weeks in Azkaban instead of life. Oh, also, Dad lost the inheritance to Aunt Kent.”

“When the hell did this happen?” Io cried, confusion and worry rising.

“Well, Grampa said like a week ago that if Dad didn’t get his priorities in order, he wasn’t getting anything from them. I guess we had it coming, though. Surprised it took Grampa ten years to make that decision.” Io sunk back into her seat. Would they lose the house? How would they eat? What if there was a divorce? Now, more than ever, she needed James. “Thank Merlin we don’t have school fees,” said Arule gloomily, crossing his arms and staring out the window at the scenes blurring by, too fast to make out.

“How—how do you know all of this?” It was the only question she could form.

“I listen, you dumb Porlock.” Silence drifted down again. Io wished someone would speak. The car smelt like old soap and all she could think about were vengeful pure bloods, Daisy alone and Dad. God, he was an idiot. He’d lost them everything in less than twenty four hours. She knew there were people who had it worse than her, but she couldn’t stand to think of Daisy having to live homeless. Maybe she was a spoilt idiot, but she didn’t want everything to come crumbling down. It had all been fine. Was that so wrong?

*****************************************

They pulled sharply into the station at ten to eleven and the trunks leapt out of the boot on their own, the doors flinging themselves open. They both climbed out, thanked the driver and picked up their things: Io just her trunk, broom and Elwood's cage, and Arule four suitcases, a massive trunk, two briefcases and a small black box with a silver insignia on top. The Morrigan family crest. Io turned away in disgust as the boot slammed shut and the car zoomed away. Arule struggled with his bags, but Io didn't offer to help. She strode through the station without him and found platform 9 3/4, then slipped through the solid wall and into the better part of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope u liked it :) feel free to point out any errors that I’ve made


	3. Of Steam Trains And Scrapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the better part of Io's life begins. But Hogwarts isn't the same as last year, and it's wearing her down already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arfhhh my momentum stopped haha. Here's the next one. Really strong language warning!!!

The minute she stepped through the barrier, everything hit her at once. Steam, curling around the heads of a milling crowds, the calling of owls and cats and worried mothers, the squealing of friends as they found each other after a long time apart. The great scarlet train gleamed in the early morning light, a sweet chariot to the better part of her life. Her heart thumped a loud hello and, as if in reply, the train gave a great spurt of steam. Io found a grin forming across her face and she hauled her trunk forwards into the crowd, searching for familiar faces. A few people, mixed in with the blur around her, called out greetings, but they weren't the ones she was looking for. A spillage of potion ingredients hissed and spat to her right, surrounded by a cluster of frantically wand-waving parents. She passed by. Someone's eagle owl burst from its cage with a shriek and soared low over the crowd, massive eyes searching for pet rats. People yelled and ducked and Io kept looking.

"Hey, Brewsam! Ready for Quidditch this year?" Io grinned and waved at the caller, Ellie Spinnet, a sixth year Gryffindor Beater. She reached the train doors and a porter heaved her trunk inside. She followed him with Elwood's cage and her broom, eagerly peering into compartments. The anticipation was only boiling her excitement. Forget Death Eaters and money: she was going back to Hogwarts!

"Which compartment, miss?" The porter panted, still hauling her trunk down the narrow corridor.

"Uhh...a bit more, thanks." She saw a group of Hufflepuff fifth years in one compartment: Bertram Aubrey, who winked and saluted, Tom Denvers, a Chaser for the Quidditch team, and Zel Goshawk, who pulled an incredible face at her through the window. Io laughed and waved, and carried on. Where on earth were they? Then a door slid open to her left and a curtain of wavy auburn hair and the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen greeted her, accompanied by a beaming smile. 

"Io!" A chorus went up from inside the compartment and she pushed inside, grinning like a lunatic as her friends sprung up from their seats. Tilly, Mary, Marlene, Alice, Jane, and of course, Lily.

"Hey! How was Marrakech?"

"It was amazing," gushed Marlene as they hugged. "And look!" She dug into her pocket and pulled out a purple 'President' embossed badge with an excited squeal. Io laughed.

"What? No way!" Marlene had been in more detentions that Alice and Frank put together. And that was saying something. She was messy, artistic, sarcastic and the dumbest yet cleverest person Io had ever met. 

"Yes! Isn't it spectacular! It's for Art Club, 'cause at Taylor left last year." 

"Io, Io, I'm sorry I didn't write-"

"It's okay, I was so busy!" Well that was a bald lie. But there would be no Morrigan business on the Hogwarts Express. Jane looked relieved.

"Coming in, Brewsam!" Alice flew at her with a hug and Io returned it happily, even though it knocked the air out of her. Mary giggled and ran at them both, joining the hug, and for the first time in quite a while, Io felt content. Then she turned around to greet Lily, but before she could say anything, Lily grabbed them all in a massive group hug and Io sank into the weight of her friends with a happy laugh. 

After a moment, they all separated and Io dragged her trunk in, thanking the tired porter, then shoved it in the luggage rack and sat down, still grinning. Jude jumped onto Tilly's lap next to Mary's cat, Griselda, and started cleaning his paws nonchalantly.

"How was your summer, Lily?" she asked, leaning on Alice's shoulder. Lily shrugged and draped herself over Marlene and Jane's laps.

"Same old. Actually, Potter sent me an owl asking me on a date." The compartment burst into giggles and Lily rolled her eyes.

"What'd you do?" Mary asked, bouncing on her seat.

"I sent it back with Stinksap in the envelope," she said wickedly and they all laughed again. It was well known that James Potter's life goal was to date Lily Evans, and that the bane of Lily Evans' life was, in fact, James Potter.

"Y'all bet he's got a bigger head than before, huh?" Tilly said in her thick Texan accent from across the compartment, stroking Jude's head absently.

"Oh, you know it," Lily grumbled. "Oh, it's Severus! 'Scuse me." She leapt up and slid open the door, and Alice's eyes turned very wide. "Oh, Io! Lily's a Prefect!" "Seriously? Wait, why am I surprised?" Io replied, earning laughs from Jane and Tilly. Outside, Lily called down the corridor for her friend. There was a low, unintelligible reply and after a moment, Lily pulled her head back in, obviously confused. The whistle sounded and the train moved off, sending everyone stumbling sideways. Mary and Jane raced to open the windows to wave goodbye to their parents, but Lily just sat down.

"What's wrong?" Marlene asked worriedly. Lily plastered on a smile and shrugged it off. 

"Bad mood, probably." But Io could tell she was hiding something. If only they could tell each other. Would she really have to wait through an eight hour train journey to finally unload? "Anyone up for a game of Snap?"

"Exploding?" Alice asked eagerly, knocking Io's head off her shoulder as she bounced off her seat. Mary clapped her hands cheerfully.

"Oh, yes! I would like to see Alice's first explosion of the term!" Io didn't really feel like Exploding Snap, but she grinned like she should and took her hand of cards and played the game after congratulating Lily for her Prefect badge. Lily flashed it with a grin and Io laughed and called her a goody-two-shoes, earning herself a shove. The Exploding Snap noises made her jump, made her heart race, but she forced herself not to concede to her brain. She couldn't complain. She wouldn't. People had it worse than her, and she wasn't going to be Sirius Black. She was going to be that raucous, fierce, loyal Gryffindor, not a spoilt lump of an idiot who thought she deserved better. 

*******************************************

A few train rattling explosions later, Alice slumped back in defeat.

"I concede. Mary, you win." Mary jumped in delight. She always won Exploding Snap. The carriage door slid open and they all looked up. Clementine and Rio, two of the girls from the other Gryffindor dorm, peered in. 

"What's up?" Io asked. Rio raised an eyebrow and Io almost laughed. She had a sort of catty, petty, superior attitude towards Io, and it had always amused her. She didn't know why, but Tilly agreed with her that it was quite funny.

"Came to get Jane," Clementine said, eyes scanning the carriage and landing on Jane, who stood up, obedient. Clementine jerked her head to the corridor and Jane followed, waving goodbye to Mary and Marlene. Io barked under her breath and Tilly snorted. Rio narrowed her eyes.

"What was that, Brewsam? Jane, get back here." Jane looked back nervously and shuffled over. Rio cocked her head expectantly.

"I ain't say anything," Io replied nonchalantly.

"What are you tryna say?"

"Ain't tryna say anything," she said with a shrug.

"Are you starting something?"

"Chill."

"Cause if you are-"

"Hey, chill."

"You know if you fuck with Jane, you fuck with us, you dig it?" Tilly was going purple with laughter in the corner, but Marlene and Lily just looked worried.

"What'd I say? Chill, honey."

"You think you're so big, huh? Jane, where you going?"

"Nowhere," Jane mumbled. Clementine was starting to look uncomfortable.

"Ree, can we not-"

"Nah, Clem. She's tryna start something, and we're gonna stand up for Jane-"

"Rio, please calm down-"

"Pipe down, Lily. This in't your business."

"Ree, I think you've made your point."

"Hey, Brewsam. Apologise to Jane." Io raised an eyebrow.

"I ain't say anything."

"I said apologise," Rio said, stepping into the compartment. Io stood up to meet her.

"Step up, girl." Rio didn't want her to apologise, not really. This wasn't about Jane. She wanted her to give in, because she wanted to feel bigger. But Io wasn't giving in.

"You think you're so fucking big," Rio said with a mirthless laugh, looking Io up and down. "Cause Daddy's big and Mumma's Pure, huh? That what it is? Cause your family's a bunch of racist hunks, yeah?" Io felt anger bubble up, in lieu of the amusement she'd felt just moments before. The compartment was tense now.

"Watch your mouth."

"But you know what I heard?" Io clenched her fist around her wand in her back pocket. Lily stood up, unsure of what to do.

"Watch it," Io snarled.

"I heard, your Daddy lost his job, cause he got *too* big. To big for his pants, huh?"

"Watch your fucking mouth, you tramp."

"Io, stop-"

"Rio, let's go-"

"Heard Daddy lost all his money." Rio pouted mockingly. "I heard you're as poor as the trolley witch. And Mumma lost her friends, eh? Not so big now, huh? How's that feel?" Io felt her wand heat up under her touch. She was about to punch this girl. She really was. "And I heard your li'l sister's a Squib! Ain't that a disappointment-" Io whipped out her wand and Rio fell silent, suddenly. The compartment held its breath. Rio licked her lips and raised an eyebrow.

"Io, put your wand down," Lily said, voice cautioning.

"Not so brave now it's serious, huh?" Io said with a growl. Rio crossed her eyes in an attempt to keep Io's wand in view, which was now hovering millimetres from her nose.

"Hex me then," Rio retorted. She wanted to. She could feel one bubbling up inside her, it was ready. Curse that running mouth right off her face. Then Lily stepped up beside them both and pushed Io's wand arm down and stood between them.

"That's enough," she said commandingly, looking between them with a frown on her face. Io looked past Lily's shoulder at Rio and scowled. Rio challenged her with a smile. "I said, that's _enough_ ," Lily almost shouted. "Or I will be taking points off Gryffindor for both of you when we arrive. Rio, out. Io, sit down." Rio huffed and whirled out, dragging Clementine and Jane along. Jane managed an apologetic half smile before she left, and Lily pushed Io down into a seat beside Tilly.

"Dunno what her problem is, love," Tilly said comfortingly, glaring at the door as Marlene slid it closed. Mary was curled in the corner, white faced, and Alice was looking like Io had just murdered someone. "She's just jealous you got hella glowed up over summer and she din't."

"Io, you're going to have to stop picking fights with people," Lily said, and Mary nodded wisely.

"Yeah, whatever, Lily. Were you even listening to her?"

"You did kinda start it," Marlene put in. They were both looking at her with matching expressions, like they were chastising her. Io let out a frustrated sigh and stood up. She didn't want to sit down anymore, she wanted to find the boys and take them up on why they hadn't written. She needed to have something to be angry about, and she didn't want to be angry at the girls, who were just trying to sort sense into her.

"I'm gonna find the boys," she said grumpily, sliding open the door. "Be back soon." She walked out and they watched her go. Fuck them. No, she loved them. Fuck Rio. Bloody shit-stirrer. 

She walked down the narrow corridor of the train until she could think straight again, and for some reason, felt tears pricking her eyes. A sixth year pushed past her and she hid her eyes away, trying the blink back the water. She carried on, peeking into compartments, but none of them held the four she was looking for. Further down the corridor, a door slid open and three Slytherin girls, Lucy Renshaw, Minnie Trigg and Emma Vanity came out into the corridor, chatting happily. They saw Io, and Lucy and Minnie waved. Emma pretended not to see her. 

"Hey, how was your summer?"

"It was good, thanks. Ready to get a whooping at Quidditch, Lu?" Lucy laughed.

"You wish. We got Wilda Griffiths *and* Lucinda Talkalot. Gryffindor are gonna be shattered," she replied triumphantly.

"I'll quote you on that when I'm waving the Quidditch cup in your face. 'Sup, Min?"

"Hi!" They hugged, Minnie a little too short for Io to reach properly. 

"Who got Prefect?" Io asked, noticing that Emma was still deliberately silent.

"Yours truly," Minnie said, waving her hands in front of Lucy's face with a flourish. Lucy blushed under her freckles a little.

"Oh, why am I not surprised? Congratulations!"

"Thank you! I thought it would be Emma," she said, attempting to drag her friend into the conversation. Emma looked away angrily and an uncomfortable silence drifted down. Lucy looked abashed and Minnie rolled her large brown eyes. 

"Well, Lily got it from Gryffindor, unsurprisingly," she said, in an effort to ease the tension. Lucy and Minnie nodded, but Emma crossed her arms and said nothing. Io carried on valiantly. "I'm just looking for James, have you seen him?" She had no idea why Emma was being so cold. She was usually sharp and sarcastic, but never downright rude. Io had actually quite liked her before.

"No, sorry. We'll say you were looking if we find him," Lucy said, obviously still uncomfortable with Emma's cold attitude. Minnie didn't seem particularly affected, just exasperated.

"...thanks." Io kept on going, trying to shake the feeling that the term was already not going well. Rio had seemed more volatile than usual, Emma had been strangely cold and even now, a few Ravenclaw sixth years were giving her weird looks. It was starting to unnerve her. But then she saw a messily stylized head of black hair bobbing around in one of the compartments like an odd puppet, and everything just seemed to melt away. Finally. She slid the door open and there was a sort of confused silence for half a second until-

"Io!" A bundle of Peter Pettigrew flung itself at her and she found herself wrapped in a tight hug, a laugh rising from inside. He was always so enthusiastic. They separated and he beamed up at her from between two apple-round cheeks, small dark eyes alight with happiness.

"Good to see you too. Hey, Dogstar." Sirius was staring. "I said hi, you doofus. You know, it's human etiquette to return a greeting." He cleared his throat and Io could have sworn she saw a blush on his sharp cheekbones as he leaned back into his seat, one jean-clad leg up on the opposite seat.

"Whatever," he replied in a low voice. It had gotten a little more gravelly over the summer. He had grown, too, taller and broader and...firmer. And his hair was shorter, and more wavy than curly. Not bad. But Io pulled a face.

"What a fry. What's with you?"

"Sirius is going through a goth phase at the moment," James said amusedly from the corner. "Note the leather jacket and moody attitude." Io snorted.

"You can't be serious."

"You know I am." James rose from his seat and held out his hand, ready for their handshake. Io grinned and took it. They shook once, then crossed forearms, clicked their fingers, shook again and bumped fists. 

"Missed you, Potter."

"Missed you too, Brewsam." She pulled him in for a hug and rubbed a hand over his hair. He jerked away with a yell and brushed his hand over it, as if checking that it was still ridiculous. Io could have saved him the effort.

"So why you boys been blowing off my letters then, huh?"

"I could just about ask you the same, airhead," James replied, confused.

"I din't get any, that's why!"

"We sent you loads," Peter chipped in. "Remus wrote most of them."

"Where is Remus, anyways?" They all kind of glanced guiltily sideways at each other until James shrugged. 

”Maybe we know, maybe we don’t,” he replied slyly. Io rolled her eyes and flopped onto a seat, the letters forgotten. She was back with her friends now, and nothing mattered.

“He’s gone to ask Lily out in your name, hasn’t he?” James looked most offended.

“I’ll have you know, I’m over Evans, actually.” He preened a little, looking far too proud. “I’m back on the market.”

“Lies,” Sirius called, cupping his hands around his lips. Peter chuckled and James chucked a half eaten Chocolate Frog at Sirius. It hit his knee and bounced off with a sad croak.

“Come on, Potter, you’re not on the Quidditch team for nothing,” Sirius said, toeing the frog with the tip of his shoe. It wriggled away.

“Where’s Remus?” Io asked, steering the conversation back around. It felt like they were keeping something from her, and she didn’t like it. First Dad’s job, then Lily and Severus, then Rio, then Emma, and now this! Couldn’t at least one thing be the same this year?

“Tell her, Peter,” James said with an air of importance and a growing grin.

“He’s coming by car,” Peter squeaked eagerly. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Not the car, you bloody twat.” Peter’s eyes got round in realisation.

“Oh! He’s got the things!” Io stared at him, utterly lost, until James gave a long-suffering sigh and spoke up.

“The ingredients.” Io looked at him. He had a wild half-grin on his face, and along with his messy hair, he looked like Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle. “We weren’t gonna tell you ‘til we got to school, but...”

“I— what ingredients?” she asked, bewildered. Sirius scoffed.

“Come on, Brewsam. The potion ingredients.” When Io continued to look lost, Sirius glanced conspicuously towards the door and leaned forwards with a glint in his eye that matched James’. “For the Animagi plan. The last bit.” Realisation cleared her confusion, followed hot on its heels by excitement, and Io felt a grin grow. They had been attempting to become Animagi for two years now, among awful half-transformations, muddled potions and sickening results that had ended in Hospital Wing visits, but this time they were sure they could do it. Remus had been sceptical at first, but they were too far gone to stop now. Was this really happening?

There was a knock at the compartment door and they all jumped out of stupor, looking over guiltily. Lily was frantically signing things at Io through the door, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The excitement vanished. What was going on? Io stood to open the door. 

”What’s wrong?”

”You’re gonna want to come quick,” Lily said breathlessly, eyebrows creased together. Io allowed herself to be lead out of the compartment, dread pooling in her stomach. This couldn’t be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo...  
> Sorry, I’ll get to Hogwarts in a bit, I’m not great at this :’D


	4. The Safest Place On Earth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hogwart’s Express has gotten much less friendly.

Io allowed herself to be dragged along, already worrying. Was it Mary? Io would kill whoever even looked the wrong way at Mary. She was Muggle-born, and there were a few fanatics in the school, but she didn’t think anyone would dare try anything on the train, a one way journey to Hogwarts. 

They pushed past people congealing in the corridors, and Io’s dread only grew. Then there was a scream from up ahead, and the train shuddered to a stop. Lily ran faster, holding Io’s wrist tight as they blurred past people poking their heads out of their compartments. 

"Let us through," Lily kept shouting, borderline hysterical. "Let me through! I'm a Prefect! Let us through, please!" Io’s heart was thudding now, and people were shouting up ahead, coming out of compartments, asking why the train had stopped. 

Confused sixth years and terrified new joiners alike were asking questions, craning their necks to see down the corridor. 

Then they skidded to a stop and Io gasped in horror. On the floor, surrounded by worried students, Jane was flat on her stomach, eyes closed, in a pool of blood. Soaking deep red into the carpet, staining it a sickly dark. 

Lily dropped to her knees and turned her over, and there was a collective intake of breath. There were cuts all over her torso, as if someone had been slashing at her with a knife, over and over again. 

Io felt sick, tears pooling behind her eyes. Was she alive? Oh, God, please let her be alive. Everything seemed too bright, and there wasn’t enough oxygen.

“Someone get the driver!” Lily said hysterically, feeling for Jane’s pulse. Someone ran off and Io knelt down beside her, unsure and terrified, her heart rabbiting against her chest.

“What happened?” Io asked breathlessly, hand curling around her wand in her pocket. Lily shook her head, eyes filling with tears as she tried to put pressure on the worst of the wounds. “What should I do?”

“Give me your coat,” Lily said, voice trembling. Io obeyed and Lily wrapped it around Jane’s torso, trying to keep it as tight as possible. 

Jane’s blood started to spread over the fabric, but all Io could see were her closed eyelids, her heart-shaped face drained of colour and utterly unresponsive. 

She regretted the dig, regretted fighting with Rio, oh, Merlin, it was like a knife. For some reason, she didn’t know why, but this was her fault. Oh, God, please let her be alive. Io couldn’t breathe properly. 

“Hold her head up,” Lily said quickly. Io scooted over to Jane’s head and held it up, opening her chin and her airways. Her head was still dizzy, still in shock. 

Somewhere, someone was crying. The conversations around her was moving slowly, everything was moving too slowly.

“Did someone get the driver?” Io asked, her voice too loud in her head. It needed to be louder, so loud St Mungo’s would come running, so loud Jane would wake up and breathe properly and be alive, please be alive. The people watching seemed to echo her question.

“Where’s the driver?”

“Tony went, I saw him.”

“He’s being too slow!” Someone pushed through the crowd, then stopped with a terrible wail. Io looked up, eyes hazing with tears, and saw Rio, hands over her mouth, face as white as snow. 

“Jane!” She stumbled to the floor, Jane’s blood staining her knees, and she crawled forward, lips moving soundlessly as she stared at her friend. 

Io’s heart tore with guilt and grief and she bit back more tears. Be strong. You can’t help Jane if you’re weak with tears. 

Lily was desperately trying to pump more life into Jane’s weak heart, Io’s coat becoming dark with blood. Io pulled out her wand and Lily shook her head wordlessly, carrying on with compressions. But they couldn’t wait for the driver, and Io didn’t care if she got put in prison for this. Jane was about to die. 

Io stripped her coat off Jane’s body and waved her wand carefully over the worst wound, concentrating carefully on the incantation.

“Vulnera Sanentur,” she murmured, tracing the tip over the wound. It didn’t work, and Io felt tears spring back again, felt panic work itself up. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and tried again, gripping her wand tighter. “Vulnera Sanentur.” The magic fizzed in the wood, and thankfully, this time, the wound closed over a little. Io did it again, pushing down the triumph to concentrate. 

Focus. 

Pure adrenaline and shock were driving her, not to mention the terror that the attacker might still be close. This time, the wound closed completely, and Lily choked back a thankful cry. 

“Hold her head,” Io commanded Rio, reaching for the next wound. Rio obeyed, stroking Jane’s hair off her face with shallow, sobbing breaths. “Vulnera Sanentur.” The next wound closed over. Io’s heart was still pounding. She had to be quick. 

Just then, the crowd parted again and the driver leapt through, stopping with an exclamation and a stumble when he saw Jane. The emergency Healer pushed past him and knelt, drawing her wand and waving the three girls away. 

Relief choked her, momentarily, but as the driver shooed the bystanders back into their compartments, Io caught sight of Jane’s sleeping face, and she wanted to be sick. With guilt, with panic, with terror that she hadn’t done enough, fast enough. 

Lily seized her and Rio and pulled them both into an empty compartment, where Rio promptly burst into heaving tears. Io guided her to a seat, still blankly dizzy, while Lily whispered soothing words.

“I don’t—don’t understand. She w-was right beside me just a s-second ago. And then sh-she left for l-like two minutes and I went to look f-for her, and then—“ Rio dissolved into sobs again and Io patted her back, holding back tears of her own. Lily’s face was white, and she was shaking, and for a while, they all sat there, just a huddle of terrified kids. If this was happening at Hogwarts, then was the looming war infecting the students as well? Were there Death Eaters among them?

********************************************

The compartment was absolutely silent as the train drew in to Hogsmeade station. Lily and Io had gone back to their dorm mates when Rio had been collected by an equally shaken Clementine, and her twin, Hazel, and now the girls were sitting in their robes, trunks on the floor, in complete quiet. 

Mary’s terrified hiccuping sobs had stopped when she’d fallen asleep on Tilly’s lap, and Lily was slumped against Io for support, every so often burying her face in Io’s shoulder. Alice and Marlene had been solemnly conversing in whispers, but now they were both just staring out of the window, Alice with her knees drawn up to her chest. Io’s optimism for the term had obviously been shattered. She had always thought of Hogwarts as absolutely safe, her good place, but now, she couldn’t be sure.

The train jerked to a stop and they all stood solemnly, collecting bags and manoeuvring around each other to the door. Once out on the platform, they stood in a huddle for a while, shrinking into their robes against the evening chill as the crowds of students rustled past, questioning and whispering and speculating.

“Firs’ years over here! Firs’ years to me!” Hagrid’s voice boomed over the platform, a beacon to the terrified first years, who all looked as though they’d seen a murder. Which some of them might have, Io thought with an awful shudder. God, please let her be alive.

“Let’s go,” Lily said finally, a little hoarse. “Come on, we can’t stand about here all evening.” She strode towards the nearest carriage, Prefect badge gleaming in the low light, but her shoulders were slumped and Io felt sorry for her. Lily loved to help people, and being a Prefect had been a dream, but Io knew this was a kick in Lily's stride. It would rattle her for ages. Hell, it would rattle all of them, especially if Jane didn’t recover. 

Io resolved right then to find out who had done this, and make them pay. She started after Lily, Elwood gnawing on the bars of his cage and Jude draped over one shoulder, and she promised herself. And she never broke her promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes!!!! Don’t worry, guys. Hogwarts happiness soon enough!
> 
> This has been edited to make it less chunky :) thank you, Ridiculosity!


	5. The Haunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feast is melancholy, and Io can't sleep. The attack is haunting everyone, but she's far too restless to stay still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's not happy and kind of boring, just felt like I had to tie up some angst before I went into first day happiness! :(

The coach rattled beneath them, but no one talked. It smelt like dust and damp and besides, what could they talk about? Tilly was curled up on one of the seats like a cat, Lily had her face pressed into her hands, Marlene was staring straight ahead and Mary and Alice were huddled together, Griselda perched on Mary's head like a statue. Io couldn't stop thinking of Jane lying face down in a pool of blood, couldn't stop hearing Rio's dreadful, horrified wail, couldn't stop seeing blood smearing Lily's hands as she started compressions on Jane's chest. The images were seared into the backs of her eyelids, gruesome reminders of the horror she'd just witnessed. 

They clattered up to the castle gates and bumped to a stop. After a second, the door swung open by itself and Lily stood.

"Come on." She started pulling the trunks out, and guiding the others from their seats. Io stood and followed, dimly realising that her hands were shaking. Of course they were, she was practically in shock. She almost dropped Elwood's cage as soon as she picked it up, and he screeched indignantly. Behind her, Mary jumped and burst into tears and Marlene and Alice rushed to her side, arms around her. Other carriages started to pull up and people were looking at them curiously. "It's alright, Mary. It's alright. It's going to be fine. Look, just get through the feast, ok? Nothing will happen at the feast." Mary nodded, wiping tears away from her face with the sleeve of her robe. Alice put an arm around her shoulders and picked up her bags, waving Marlene away as the others waited for them to catch up. Io looked over at Lily. She was starkly pale still, trembling a little, and when she looked down, Io caught sight of the glint of tears in her bright green eyes.

"Lily?" Her friend looked over and smiled bravely. Io almost started crying herself. Lily was being so brave, and it couldn't be easy to keep from breaking down. Io felt stronger just by looking at her. "It's gonna be okay. She'll be fine." Lily smiled again and turned towards the gates as their carriage trundled away.

*******************************************

The Great Hall was resplendent as always, but the atmosphere was hushed and terrified. Even the teachers seemed more nervous than usual. As if sensing the confusion and doubt, the sky ceiling clouded over a little, sending the Hall into dimmer tones. Lily lead their dorm to the Gryffindor table, next to a stricken Hazel, Clementine and Lois: the girls in the other dorm. Rio was nowhere to be seen.

"How are you guys doing?" Marlene asked Clementine softly, seating herself beside them. Lois looked down at her plate as if she might throw up.

"I hope she's okay," Tilly offered from down the table. Clementine nodded.

"Are you two okay?" Hazel asked. Clementine looked over at Lily and Io, both twins wearing the same expression, blue eyes wide and foreheads creased. It was uncanny. Io shrugged, not trusting herself to speak, but Lily smiled graciously.

"We're fine. If you need anything, though, we're all here for you." They all nodded in agreement, and a hush descended over their little group, apart from Mary, who was still hiccuping with tears, and Alice, who was rubbing her back soothingly and whispering in her ear. They sat in awkward silence for a while, until someone started calling Io's name from down the table.

"Hey, Io! Io! Over here!" She looked over and saw James walking up, wearing a worried expression and his glasses slightly askew. Io leapt from her seat and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her, solid and comforting, then drew back. "Are you alright? Is she alright? Hey, look at me." Io had almost dissolved into tears, her last resolve gone, but she pulled him close again and buried her face in his shoulder. He held her carefully, like he was scared she would shatter, and she tried not to cry.

"Yeah, 'm okay," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"You don't sound okay. D'you need to go to Pomfrey, get a Calming Draught?" That sounded pretty good right about now. But Io shook her head and wiped her eyes, hands still shaking.

"Can't miss the feast, can I?"

"Wanna come sit with us?" She looked over to where he'd been sitting. Sirius was frowning at table like he was trying to shatter it with his mind. Peter had his knees drawn up to his chest. Remus, who had gotten taller and a new haircut and filled out and was really, quite cute, had his hands knotted together on the table, speaking gently to Sirius, who was nodding and frowning, but not speaking. Then she looked at Lily, who had her head in her hands, Marlene, who was desperately trying to comfort everyone at the same time, Tilly, who was glaring at her pumpkin juice, and Alice and Mary, still huddled together tearfully. She turned back to James.

"I think I need to stay. I need to-" she trailed off, but James nodded.

"Sure. Come see me after, yeah?"

"Will do." He hugged her again, and smiled bravely, tipping her chin up. 

"It's gonna be okay. It always is." With that, he turned and walked away, and Io watched him go, wondering if that could be the case.

*******************************************

Dumbledore's speech was, predictably, full of 'this tragedy' and 'Hogwarts will always be safe' and 'we must, now more than ever, become a community', but he didn't mention Jane's name or Lily's heroics or even anything about the attacker, once. By the end of his speech, the students were restless and confused and if possible, even more scared. 

The feast started and the Hall filled with chatter, but Io didn't feel like eating. Lily noticed Io glaring daggers at her plate, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Io, I know you're angry, but if you go looking for who did this, it's only going to end in trouble."

"This shouldn't happen, Lily! And Dumbledore's not doing anything about it!"

"You don't know that. You have to trust him." Io huffed.

"I trust him about as far as I can throw him."

"I know, but this is serious. This isn't pranks, this isn't Quidditch, this isn't homework. This is Death Eaters, and we all know it, so you have to leave it to Dumbledore. It's dangerous."

"Lily, I can't! Come on! Jane got attacked, and no one's being punished!"

"Again, you don't know that."

"I just can't see people get hurt! I hate it! I want to stop it!"

"So do I! But we couldn't have been there, we can't do anything now, so you have to let it go." Io looked at her, and a sharp, angry green stared back at her. She was so fierce. Io sighed and rested her shoulder on Lily's.

"Sorry."

"It's ok."

*******************************************

Io couldn't sleep. She stared at the bright red drapes around her bed, lost in their dim colour. The room was dark, and the tower was quiet, it being past midnight. No one in Gryffindor tower had wished to stay up and ring in the new term with panache: everyone had gone straight to their dorms. Jane's empty bed was a stark reminder that nothing was really right. 

Io squeezed her eyes shut. Tilly was snoring, Marlene was rustling, Lily was muttering in her sleep, and Alice and Mary were both wrapped in Mary's blankets, whispering back and forth. It was no use. She sat up and stuck her hand through the gap in the thick curtain, feeling around on her bedside table for her wand. Her fingers grasped around it and she pulled the curtain back.

"Lumos." It lit up brightly, and she looked around, fearful of drawing attention or waking anyone up. The curtains, however, were so heavy, that any light was blocked out. Io swept the light over the floor, looking for her shoes. They were half under her bed and she pulled them on, shivering in the chill of the tower. Goosebumps raised on her bare arms, so she pulled her hoodie on as well, then slipped out of the door and down the stairs into the common room. 

The fire was burning low, and it was colder than her room, but it was silent and peaceful. She sunk into an armchair, the fabric cold from disuse, and stared into the embers. The silence calmed her. Before long, her eyelids began to droop, and she jerked herself awake. She couldn't fall asleep down here. But she knew if she went back to bed, she wouldn't get to sleep either, so she rose, stretched her legs, and made for the portrait hole. It swung open silently, not even waking the snoring Fat Lady. Io climbed out into the corridor, only realising her mistake when the portrait swung closed behind her with a click. She swivelled, bit her tongue, sighed, and walked away.

She spent so long wandering Hogwarts that she wasn't surprised when she looked out of a fourth floor Charms classroom window and saw the sky lightening over the towers. Her eyes were sore with sleep deprivation, her fingernails bitten down with worry. Despite her midnight walk, she hadn't managed to get Jane off her mind. She was so terrified for her, so guilty, so angry. But she had found a little peace. Peace in the fact that she knew Jane was in good hands, and she knew she could find who'd done it.

She slipped off the desk she'd been sitting on and made for the door, pausing when she heard a swooping and a cackling from outside. Peeves. She waited until he'd rattled off down the corridor, waking angry portraits and pushing over suits of armour, then slipped out of the classroom and took off in the other direction. She didn't want to risk getting found by Peeves. No doubt he'd spent all summer thinking of evil things to do to students. 

She arrived back at the portrait hole slightly out of breath, and earned herself a stern look from the just-woken Fat Lady.

"Aren't you meant to be in bed?"

"Cor Fortium," Io panted. The Fat Lady hummed disapprovingly and swung inwards. Io scrambled inside and took the stairs to the girls tower. Maybe she'd have a few hours of peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual magic next chapter!! Yay!


	6. Boys Just Won't Back Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io has boy troubles. Jane returns to Hogwarts, happy and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cool, so: sorry it's late, it's been Christmas lol, also it's probs real bad so any comments help for improvement!

Breakfast that morning was a strange affair. There were whispers up and down the hall, people clumping together in groups, some people casting Lily and Io suspicious looks. Word spread fast. But it didn't seem as scared or tense as last night. What had happened? Io spooned scrambled egg into her mouth and rubbed her eyes.

"Guys, did you hear?" Alice bounced into a seat, slapping her bag down on the table, obviously excited.

"No," Marlene said wearily. "Do tell."

"Jane's back!" Io sat up straight, and Mary copied, looking utterly relieved.

"What? Where is she?"

"Hospital wing, duh. Rio's just come out, told me outside!" It felt like a huge pressure had just been lifted on Io's chest. Jane was okay. Io looked over at Lily, who now was grinning radiantly.

"Thank Merlin." The table fell into a relieved silence, but Mary was still trembling a little, and Io remembered with a jolt that she was Muggle-born. She must have been scared out of her wits, especially now that Jane, also a Muggle-born, had been attacked on the train to the safest place in England. It might not have been related, but it didn't take a genius to work that out. Io rubbed her eyes again, forcing herself to keep them open.

"Io, you snuck out, didn't you?" The voice seemed to come from a distance and Io looked up. Lily was staring at her, toast lying forgotten on her plate.

"What?"

"You snuck out." Io shrugged indifferently, thinking Lily would let it go like usual, but apparently that wasn't the case anymore. "Io, it's a problem. Don't just shrug. I'm a prefect now-"

"Yeah, I know-"

"And you are my responsibility. It's O.W.L's year. You need to look after yourself, especially because of what happened to Jane. And that means no sneaking around at night, no ridiculous adventures with your boyfriends-"

"They're not my boyfriends, Lily," Io snapped, the weariness and guilt and confusion from last night descending on her again for no reason, itching and irritating at her.

"And no skipping out on homework! Go to the hospital wing, for goodness sake! You need to overcome this!"

"You nagging me isn't gonna make anything better. I can't just fall asleep if my body doesn't want to."

"You're not getting it-"

"No, I am getting it! Just leave me alone, for god's sake!" Io felt her face heat up as people turned to look from down the table. Lily lapsed into silence. Then-

"I'm trying to help," she said softly.

"Yeah, whatever. Do you just instantly become super boring when you get a Prefect badge?" Lily looked shocked.

"Io, she's right," Marlene said wisely, looking up from her timetable. Io rolled her eyes.

"Seriously?"

"Just go to the hospital wing-"

"Forget it," grumbled Io, grabbing her bag and her new timetable. "I'm gonna go sit with my *boyfriends*." She stood and slung her bag over her shoulder, accidentally knocking over Alice's pumpkin juice. It split all over her lap, she shrieked and Mary jumped and burst into tears again. Io strode away, upset with Lily for being so understanding, upset with herself for being such an idiot, upset with Dumbledore, upset with her mother, with the bloody Death Eaters, and then upset with herself again for not going to sleep last night. She scrubbed her eyes, wiping away tired tears. Maybe she would take a lesson off in the hospital wing.

"Oi, Brewsam!" Someone was yelling at her from the Ravenclaw table. She ignored them. "Brewsam!" She wasn't going to look over. She was going to sit down with James and Sirius and Remus and Peter and she was going to ignore them. "Brewsam!" She scowled and looked over. A sixth year boy was standing on his chair and waving at her. A lot of people were watching.

"What?" She snapped. He grinned, then pointed to his friend, a dark-skinned boy with a Prefect badge pinned to his tie. The friend slumped in his seat, obviously embarrassed, trying to pull the first boy back into his seat. Io recognised the Prefect. He was Ravenclaw's Keeper. Not bad looking, either.

"Deion thinks you're fit!" Deion grabbed his friend's arm, purposefully not looking at Io, and tried to pull him down again. A couple of Ravenclaws were laughing, and Io felt just as humiliated as Deion looked.

"Deion can shove his wand up his arse!" The friend roared with laughter and Io carried on, knowing that her cheeks were burning bright red. Deion grabbed a book and sank behind it to avoid eye contact. Not like she'd be giving him any anyway. 

She reached the boys and threw her bag onto the table, yanked out her timetable and disappeared behind it. Over the top of the paper, she saw James and Peter exchange a look. Then James and Remus. Then Remus and Peter. Sirius was too busy staring at Remus to exchange anything. And with good reason, Io thought. Remus had definitely gotten better-looking over the holidays. "What?" She snapped, when James nodded and raised his eyebrows at Peter. Peter jumped at her outburst.

"Just thinking how you've got-"

"If you say anything about what just happened, Pettigrew, I'll rip your ears off with my bare hands." Peter's eyes widened to the size of Galleons. James grinned and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Noted." Silence descended on them. Sirius rested his chin on his hand and watched Remus turn a page of his Charms book.

"Oi. Black." His chin slipped out of his hand and he started guiltily. Io laughed. "You used to be suave. What changed?" Remus looked up and Sirius shrugged, running a hand through his curly hair. His fingers were quite nice. Io shook the thought from her brain. What the hell? Thinking Remus was fit was one thing, but Sirius Black? She would never tap Sirius Black. Not in a lifetime.

"I'm still suave. It's my middle name." 

"Sirius Orion Suave Black," Peter mused. "Doesn't really suit you."

"You're all a bunch of dorks," Io said, looking back at her timetable. "Oh, bloody hell."

"What?" Remus made a grab for her timetable and she swatted him away.

"Leave off. Look, I've got Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, double Charms in the afternoon, then History of Magic, then Herbology." 

"So what?" James asked, shoving bacon in his mouth.

"So..." Io said with a roll of her eyes. "I'll have lessons with you lot for a whole day straight." 

"Lucky you, huh?" Peter said.

"No, not lucky me. I sit next to Sirius Orion Suave Black in literally every lesson! Not lucky me! Kill me!"

"I'm right here."

"No one cares."

"Poor Sirius Orion Suave Black," Remus said with a pout. "Stop bullying him. He's delicate!" He put an arm around Sirius's shoulders, and Sirius shoved it off. 

"Yeah, ha ha, you can stop that now," he growled.

"Wait, Moony!" Remus looked over at Io's shocked exclamation. She'd noticed a glint of metal pinned to his lapel.

"What?" Io leaned over the table and grabbed his collar, her jaw falling open. Remus made an exaggerated strangled sound.

"A Prefect? Moony? What is happening?" Really? Remus? A Prefect? Io let go of his robes and sank back into her seat. Remus shrugged and rearranged himself.

"Dumbledore obviously thought I could keep you lot in line." A grin started to form on Io's face, and Remus shook his head vehemently. "Whatever you're thinking-"

"Okay, you guys seriously didn't think of this?" Io interrupted, looking around at the rest of them. James was making a face, Peter looked pleasantly blank, and Sirius was staring at her, looking distinctly unimpressed. "Come on! This is just designed to get us out of trouble! Every time we're about to get caught, Moony can swoop in and 'give us detention'." An evil grin began to light up Sirius's face and Remus shook his head again.

"I don't believe it, lads. Iona's had a good idea for the first time ever," Sirius announced. Io chucked a piece of toast at him from Peter's plate and he laughed and ducked. It sailed over his shoulder and hit a second year Hufflepuff on the back of the head, causing the Hufflepuff Prefect on that table to stand up immediately and glare around for the culprit.

"Oh, shit," Io muttered. "Time to go." She grabbed her bag and climbed out of her seat, trying desperately to be inconspicuous. Sirius sniggered and she resisted the urge to chuck something else at him. Then the Prefect looked towards them and Io bolted for the door of the hall.

"Brewsam!" She didn't dare look back. She could hear Peter and Sirius laughing, and James saying 'oh shit' in a high, mocking tone of voice. She tore out of the Great Hall, looked behind her shoulder momentarily, and then thumped right into sixth year Deion, knocking them both flat on their arses.

"Bloody hell!" She yelled, hitting the floor arms first and spilling the contents of her bag everywhere. This day was not going well. She sat up, rubbing her sore elbow and completely disoriented, then saw her smashed ink bottle and ruined parchment and sighed angrily. Deion rose to his feet, stammering an apology and trying to gather her things for her. People were staring now, yet again, and Io did not like it.

"Oh, leave it," she snapped, as Deion tried to hand her back her spoiled parchment. She shook ink off her copy of Intermediate Transfiguration and started to stuff her things back into her bag.

"Sorry," Deion said awkwardly as she stood and slung the strap over her shoulder. She just raised an eyebrow and pushed past him, towards the grand staircase on her way to Care of Magical Creatures. What an idiot. Unfortunately, he decided to follow her, calling her last name and drawing far too much attention. A gang of hyper second years congealed up ahead of her and she knocked through them, amid scared squeals. It slowed Deion down, but didn't stop him. Well, he couldn't follow her all the way to Kettleburn's classroom, could he? Besides, she knew far more ways of getting about the castle than he did. 

Behind her, he called her surname again and this time, she swung around fiercely.

"What do you want?" She hissed. He caught up to her, panting from the exertion.

"I'm sorry for knocking you over."

"Yeah, you will be," she snapped. Instead of cringing backwards like most people did, he seemed...amused? What the hell?

"And I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"I don't get embarrassed."

"You seem kinda embarrassed now," he teased, nodding towards her flushed cheeks. She raised an eyebrow, trying to hide utter bewilderment. Why hadn't he backed off yet? She was practically snarling at him.

"Then why you still here, huh?"

"I wanted to ask you if you'd go to Hogsmeade with me." Io scoffed and flicked her ponytail over her shoulder.

"You gotta be joking."

"Why would I be joking?" His dark eyes suddenly seemed very deep. And very dark. Io kept her imperious expression strong and focused her eyes on his stupid blue and bronze Prefect badge, pinned to his stupidly tidy tie.

"Thanks for the offer, but I prefer to date people who actually gotta chance with me," she replied, turning away. To her surprise, he laughed. What on earth...? He must really want to tap this, she thought as she started to climb the stairs again.

"Hey, Brewsam!" He was calling her again. She gave a long-suffering sigh and turned around. Was that-? Yes, Deion Vaughn was standing in the middle of the stairs, holding out her very own ink-splattered quill and smiling. Like an idiot. She marched back down, snatched it from his hand and scowled up into his hopeful smile. Why was he so bloody tall?

"Leave me alone," she snapped, then whipped back around and ran the rest of the way to Magical Creatures. Thankfully, he didn't try to follow her.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Two feet of parchment on the recognition of Knarls?" Alice groaned. "There can't be that many ways to distinguish it! I thought Kettleburn was the cool teacher." She dragged a hand over her plaits, which were already a little messed up. And they hadn't even gotten to their second lesson yet. She also still had a stain of pumpkin juice in her lap, for which James and Sirius had been mocking her mercilessly all lesson.

"No one's the cool teacher in fifth year," Mary replied glumly.

"I bet McGonagall gives us a crap ton as well," Lily said, struggling to stuff her books into her satchel. A first year stared up at her while walking past and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Marlene laughed.

"You're meant to be a good influence, you bad mouthed harpy," Alice joked, nudging Lily with her shoulder. Lily cringed.

"Yikes. And who're you calling a harpy?" Alice giggled and dodged a whack from Lily's satchel.

"Io, ain't you got a boy on your arm already?" Tilly suddenly piped up out of the blue. Where had that come from? Io rolled her eyes, but Lily froze from hitting Alice with a raised eyebrow and Marlene gave a dramatic gasp.

"A boy?" Alice squealed. "Already?"

"Iona, you tart!" Marlene said. Io dropped her jaw in shock.

"Uh, rude! And no, I don't, Bell. I'm just irresistible this year, apparently."

"What- who is it?" Lily asked excitedly. "Why didn't you tell us? Oh Merlin, it's not Jason Mundle, is it?" Io mimed being sick on the floor. Jason Mundle, a seventh year from Slytherin with a puff of orange hair and half the girls in his year on his arm, had tried to kiss Io at the end of term last year. He'd been rewarded with four hexes: one from James, one from Io herself, one from Sirius and one from Lily.

"Of course it's not bloody Mundle. He's probably still got permanent acne from your curse, Lily." Lily smiled wickedly. It was quite terrifying.

"It's Deion Vaughn!" Tilly announced loudly, apparently unable to keep it in any longer and drawing the attention of several people around them.

"Oh, Merlin's pants, please shut up," Io groaned, shielding her face as a group of sixth year Ravenclaw boys looked around at the sound of their friend's name.

"Deion Vaughn!" Marlene shrieked, scandalised. "Io, you lucky girl! Marry that boy before he changes his mind!" The boys looked around again and spotted Io, who took that chance to beat Marlene almost senseless with The Monster Book Of Monsters.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Later that day, Io flopped into her seat beside Sirius in Charms (with the Hufflepuffs) and dumped her bag on the table in front of them both. Almost immediately, he lifted his wand lazily and sent the bag flying across the classroom. Io scowled.

"Can't you be mature for ten seconds?" He only grinned and tilted his chair back on two legs, a single black curl falling over his forehead. 

After stomping over to collect her bag and flipping off Bertram Aubrey, (who dared to look her up and down and grin widely) Io sat back down, pointedly ignoring Sirius as he drew his wand teasingly again. When she continued to ignore him, even as he flicked balls of paper at her, he switched to different tactics.

"So, I heard you're getting it on with Deion Vaughn," he said nonchalantly, loud enough for Carlotta Pearse and Dirk Cresswell to hear from behind them. Io tipped her chin up and refused to be baited. "Or is that just a rumor? Like the time you and Jason Mundle snogged at the end of term, although we all know *that* wasn't a rumor." Io tried so hard not to draw her wand and Rictumsempra him, but it was hard to concentrate when Carlotta behind them was discussing with Dirk every single word that Sirius was saying. Thankfully, at that moment, Professor Flitwick tottered into the classroom and the students fell silent. Io spared Sirius one poisonous glance that told him she would get him back. He smirked at her sideways and flicked a paper ball into her ear.

"Settle down!" Flitwick squeaked, standing up on his pile of books behind the teacher's lectern. "Right, thank you. As you all know, this year is O.W.L year, unfortunately. That means, again, as you are all already aware: homework!" Someone groaned on the opposite side of the classroom, comically loudly, and a few of the girls giggled. Benjy Lockley. Of course. He figured himself a comedian, and for some reason, people liked him. Io thought he was mighty annoying. "Thank you Mister Lockley," Flitwick said sharply. "That will do." Benjy shrugged apologetically and Flitwick carried on. "We will be reviewing the fourth year syllabus for the first few lessons, so everyone take a pillow, and we will begin Summoning Charms!" Io sighed. Summoning Charms. How bloody boring. All the same, she figured she'd better get to it, so she raised her wand, but before she could get a pillow, Sirius flicked his wand and sent one zooming right into her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The marauders are dorks FIGHT me


	7. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Io searches for truth, terrible things come to light. Remus wishes to go back to better times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out how to do italics lol.  
> Also this is kinda weird at a couple points but whatevs I couldn't figure out what to write

"We should've had Quidditch tryouts today," James commented, shovelling fish pie into his mouth. Io picked at hers, making a face.

"How d'you figure?"

"Well, Gwenog already put a schedule up, and one of the slots is six am Tuesday morning." Io groaned.

"Course it is." They were sitting opposite each other on the Gryffindor table, a little ways down from Rio and the twins. Sirius, Remus and Peter were in the library, searching the Restricted Section for the books they'd found last year about Animagi, but hadn't been allowed to check out. 

Io had been to the hospital wing at lunch to see Jane, who had been radiantly happy at her appearance, and had thanked her, seemingly endlessly. Io didn't know if she felt better or worse, but she still remembered that promise, that she would find the culprit and punish them soundly. She had yet to tell James about this, but she felt like she could bring it up. He would help her, she knew. He was practically her brother. Where Lily might blanch at the idea of revenge, James understood that it was the only way she could put things to rest. She had an inkling that this might be because Sirius often felt the same way.

"Surely that would be the worst time for tryouts? No one would turn up." For now, she only felt like talking about Quidditch. James nodded.

"Yeah, but we might've asked to get this evening instead of Slytherin. Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match is in two weeks."

"You know, I heard Florence Pettiford, the new Hufflepuff Captain, she was talking to Billie Plunkett about how Hooch told her that we are gonna have a Quidditch match against Ilvermorny! Also that they're gonna have first and second team Hogwarts tryouts soon, Dumbledore's announcing it at the Halloween feast." James dropped his fork, eyes wide.

"Serious?" He asked, excitement burning in his voice. Io nodded impressively and they both sat in awe for a moment, imagining the Quidditch glory that being in the Hogwarts first team might bring. Then her thoughts wheeled back around to Jane and she stabbed angrily at her fish pie. "What's up?" She just shrugged, but he ran his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was worried. "Come on. Something's bothering you." Io sighed and set down her fork.

"It's Jane," she said in a covert voice, making sure Rio and the others couldn't hear her. James's eyebrows lowered.

"What about her?"

"I promised myself I'd find out who did it."

"And?" He prodded. Merlin, he knew her so well.

"And make 'em pay," she growled at her plate. He fell silent. Then-

"Io, normally, I would help you." She looked up sharply and he studied her through his round glasses. That was not what she'd expected.

"But?" She asked, feeling that familiar bitter anger rising. She welcomed it. She needed it. James looked around urgently and lowered his voice.

"It's eating at you."

"So what?"

"I know you get angry, okay? I know you're just a generally cross person, and I know why. But that's always been for you, or your family, and this time it's different." Io scowled to hide her confusion.

"What are you going on about?"

"It's about Muggleborns, and the war, and the world. Not about you," he said earnestly. Io kept the scowl.

"And what's so wrong about that?"

"Nothing! It's good, but you're gonna get yourself mixed up in dangerous shit. It's not gonna go well."

"It will if you help me," she challenged, with a raised eyebrow. James shook his head.

"Io, this isn't a fight you can win. This is bigger than Hogwarts. This is seventh year maniacs, Malfoy and Avery and Mulciber and Rosier and bloody Bellatrix Black, joining the hate side of the war, and making their choices too early. They're not gonna hesitate to try and kill you. They don't stand by school rules. This is real world."

†††††††††††††††††††††

Later that evening, Io sat on the long sofa by the fire, bent over the table to write out the first point to her Knarls essay. She'd declined Peter's offer to join in with him and the Marauders (dorks, she thought affectionately), who were going to find Severus Snape and turn his robes see-through. She felt like she had enough on her mind already. Also, she wasn't really in the mood to see Snape's dirty underwear and watch James and Sirius bully him.

When she'd gone to the hospital wing, she'd asked Jane who had attacked her on the train, and Jane had gone wide eyed and asked if Io was going to get them back. Io had hurriedly denied it, but Jane had then told her she didn't remember.

"I feel like they were wearing Ravenclaw robes," Jane had said, but obviously it had been too much for her, because she'd drawn her knees up to her chest and her eyes had gone glazed. Io had immediately apologised and felt terribly guilty. 

So. Ravenclaw robes. Now she only had to interrogate her way through a quarter of the school to avenge the attack. But she would do it, and she would make sure that everyone knew not to hurt a Muggle-born. 

For a second, the words James had said earlier came back to her, and she hesitated in her thoughts. She was furious that anyone thought they could attack a Muggleborn while she was at Hogwarts, but was she out of her depth? Was this really dangerous? 

She shook the worrying thought away, bent over her parchment and continued to write: _there are many ways to distinguish Knarls from non-magical creatures such as hedgehogs, and many methods, but the most effective is that the Knarl, being very suspicious and paranoid, will take extreme offence at gifts left out. An example of this would be that if Muggles leave milk in their gardens overnight, hoping to attract hedgehogs, and a Knarl finds it, the Knarl will_

"BOO!" She jumped spectacularly, smudging the last two sentences of her essay, and whipped around, wand out. At the point of her wand, Alice's grinning face hovered like a headless ghoul. Io lowered her arm, breathing heavily.

"What. Is. Your. Problem?" She asked through gritted teeth. Alice only giggled and flopped down beside her.

"Where's Lils?" Io harrumphed and returned to her essay, heart still thumping. She'd been thinking about Death Eaters and revenge and danger. And Knarls.

"I don't know, I don't keep tabs on her," Io replied grumpily. Alice raised her eyebrows so high they disappeared into her frizzy fringe.

"Oooo. What's got your robes in a twist?"

"Nothing," Io said, dabbing ink away from her writing. "Where were you at dinner?" Alice smiled secretively.

"Library."

"The hell were you doing in the library on the first day back?" 

"Working, of course. Professor Eldritch set us _research_ on the line of Seers throughout history." She emphasised 'research' with a comically round roll of her clear brown eyes. "He's really fixated on us learning the difference between frauds and those with 'the Sight'. Did you know that the line of Trelawney skipped seven generations?"

"Sounds like you don't even wanna take Divination," Io observed. Alice sighed and flopped onto the sofa beside Io, jogging her elbow.

"I don't. I've been regretting it since third year."

"So quit."

"Don't be dumb. I can't get a job with ten O.W.Ls."

"Dallas Gleaning's sister only did eight," Io countered, trying to remember what she'd been about to write.

"Really? Huh. Well, I'm not as stupid as Jenny Gleaning. Hah, remember when she tried to curse her acne off and ended up in St. Mungo's?"

"Mhmm." She wracked her brains again as Alice settled into the sofa with a sigh. Right. Knarls would get offended at overnight gifts and destroy gardens. Io dipped her quill in ink, bent over her essay again, and the portrait hole burst open, startling her into spilling ink all over the table. Alice leapt out of her seat and the entire common room looked round as James, Sirius, Peter and Remus barrelled into the common room, panting and red faced and grinning. 

"What on earth…?" Alice wondered, before shaking her head and leaning back into the sofa. Remus' eyes roamed the room before they alighted on her, and his grin widened a little. He dragged the others over and they congregated around the sofa.

"A'ight, Prewett?" Sirius asked with a wink. Alice curled her lip and ignored him. He pretended to be deeply offended.

"What've you been up to?" Io asked, righting her ink bottle. "Tergeo." The spilt ink vanished from the table. "Damn, now I've got none left. Thanks a bunch, lads."

"We _were_ going to find Snivellus and turn his robes see-through-" James started.

"-but we thought about your cross little face and decided we could do something else," Sirius finished off. Io caught on.

"Right, about the-"

"-thing you said at dinner," Peter chimed in. Alice looked between them all.

"Pettigrew, you weren't at dinner, you were in the library," she said with a suspicious scowl. "Io, are you doing illegal things again? You know that lot were in the Restricted Section, looking for who-knows-what. And Lupin, aren't you meant to be a Prefect?" Remus went a little red, but Sirius jumped in quickly.

"Yes, Prewett, we were in the library. Extra credit, you know. Moony's all about sucking up. If you'll excuse us-" he grabbed Io by the elbow, wrapped his arms around her and hauled her over the back of the sofa, "-Iona here has something she'd like to discuss with us." He had his arms around Io's waist and she slapped them away and struggled to her feet. Alice shrugged and got up, leaving for the stairs.

"Better hope Lily doesn't catch you, by the way," she called over her shoulder. "I couldn't care less, but she's serious about being a Prefect now. See ya."

"Sucking up?" Remus said incredulously, once Alice had disappeared.

"Oh, get over it. It's true, anyway," James added. Remus adopted an air of indignance and Io rolled her eyes.

"I don't care about your delicate soul, Moony, spit it out. What'd you do to Snape?" The boys grinned, apart from Remus, who looked confusedly concerned, and they all dragged each other into a huddle.

"Well, we found him skulking around the library-"

"-and we figured we couldn't do a thing to him in there, so-"

"-we waited 'til he came out-"

"-pulled him down the corridor-"

"-and made him tell us exactly what happened to Jane Boot." Io stared round at them, Sirius with a wicked smirk, James with an air of self-importance, Peter with a hopeful grin, and Remus, slightly red-faced with holding back his own disapproving opinion on the operation.

"You blackmailed him?" James waved a hand vaguely.

"Eh, we have our methods."

"James, that's not right-"

"You wanna do this or not?" Sirius interrupted, sounding irritated.

"Keep your voices down," Remus hissed, looking around at the other Gryffindors in the common room. Io sighed.

"Fine. What'd he say?" 

"Pete?" James said grandly, like a Muggle magician revealing his trick.

"Curly Hobday, Ravenclaw," Peter whispered solemnly. Io's stomach dropped like she'd just fallen off her broom.

"Curly Hobday? That can't be right." Curly was in the year below them, a hyper little kid that was always happy about _something_ , and was obsessed with Lily. Io remembered last year, when Curly would run around after Lily, offering to hold her bag or her robes or do her homework. Io found it hilarious and Lily had had to refuse Curly's help, over and over. She'd also seemed to gain an attraction of all of Curly's friends, and they used to follow her around, hanging onto her every word. Lily had that effect on people. Io had mostly used the attraction of third years to ask them questions and make them do things for her. They were so pliable.

But now that Io came to think of it, Curly hadn't even come to say hello to Lily on the train, hadn't rushed up to her at breakfast, hadn't begged to take her books to her lessons for her. Io had put the difference down to Curly and her friends ascending into fourth year, and feeling all grown up, but Martha Quintin and Holly Rabnott, two of Curly's friends, had actually come running up to Lily after Herbology, insisting that they help her with her bag. Io hadn't noticed Curly's absence then.

"We're sure," Sirius said. "Snivellus breaks easy." Io glared at him.

"You're bullies." James looked affronted, but Remus gave a committal shrug. "How did he know, anyways? And why are you lot so ecstatic about this?"

"Snivellus knows beause he's involved in every insipid thing that goes on in this bloody castle," James said pompously.

"James, you've gone posh again," Peter piped up.

"And we're ecstatic because Moony just took points off of a Hufflepuff who was shoving some idiot out of a window!" Sirius exclaimed, looking extremely bothered and disapproving. Remus went bright red, but Io didn't have the heart to react.

"Curly Hobday?" She asked, feeling like she'd settled suddenly into a distant depression. It couldn't be. She felt tears welling up. The boys looked at each other, celebration lost.

"Io-"

"But she's not- she's not evil!" Her voice broke a little. "She's Curly. She follows Lily around everywhere and makes friends with the ghosts and practices Charms on the Hufflepuffs at breakfast. Curly wouldn't- she wouldn't-" she felt like the floor had been whipped out from under her feet. It had taken a while for realisation to hit her, and now that it was here, she didn't know how to go on. She'd made a promise, but Curly? It didn't seem feasible. Tears dripped down her cheeks. All her anger had just dissipated instantly. She rubbed the sleeve of her robes over her eyes and shook her head. "It can't be." 

She didn't notice Remus leading her out of the common room, just felt his hand on her arm as tears started to roll down her face, faster now. Could she keep her promise? Why, Curly, of all people? 

She stumbled along beside Remus as he walked down the corridor until they came to a small alcove, where he sat her down and squished in beside her. She remembered this place, and gave him a watery smile as he curled his arms around her and tucked his feet in. The two of them used to sit here in first year, Io hiding from all the kids who called her father a half-caste gold-digger, and Remus trying to find peace amongst painful transformations and a terrible secret. 

They didn't fit anymore, Remus all firm muscle and long limbs and Io with wider hips and a Chaser's build. But they sat, squashed against each other while Io cried into his shoulder, taking jagged breaths and breathing in his smell of chocolate and old woollen jumpers.

After a while, when she stopped, and the image of Curly's beaming smile only brought inward pain instead of a torrent of tears, Remus pulled away as much as he was able and looked down at her.

"I have to do it," she whispered raggedly. He nodded and wiped her cheeks with his sleeve.

"I know."

"I promised, Remus. I have to tell Dumbledore."

"Okay. We'll tell Dumbledore. It'll be okay." He tucked her head into his chest and rested his chin on her hair.

"She'll be expelled," said Io softly.

"Yeah." They sat in silence for a bit, Io matching her breathing to the rise and fall of Remus' chest.

"What'd Snape say?" She asked quietly, after a while. Remus sighed.

"He only told us it was Curly. He didn't tell us why, or about anything bigger."

"What did you do to him?" Remus didn't answer and Io cleared her throat. "Remus."

"Yeah?"

"You gotta stand up to them," she said. He swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

"I know."

"They're bullying him."

"I know." Io shrugged and laid her ear over his heartbeat. His long fingers wrapped around her shoulder.

"We both need to do something, don't we?" She said, more of a statement than a question.

"We do."

†††††††††††††††††††††

Unhappily, Io didn't sleep that night, either. She tried to put it down to Mary (who was still terrified about being Muggleborn) bouncing around in her bed all night and whispering over to Alice, or to Lily doing her Transfiguration homework under the light of her wand (and occasionally relating to Tilly the stupid things James had done that day to try and get her to go out with him), but Io knew that it was really because she knew about Curly. 

She knew what she had to do, but she just didn't have the heart. Weren't Gryffindors meant to be brave? To stand up against evil and stop this kind of thing? She didn't feel very brave right now. 

Funnily enough, only a few hours ago she'd been prepared to cut down anyone who might even think of trying to get to a Muggleborn like that, but now that she knew the consequences, her anger and her courage had disappeared. She was furious with herself. She was the first Gryffindor in the Morrigan and Brewsam families in quite a few generations, yet she couldn't find the bravery to keep her own promises? 

Her drapes opened and she looked over as Lily wriggled into bed beside her, pushing her cold feet against Io's legs. The curtains fell closed again.

"Alright?" Io whispered. Mary had finally stopped whispering fearfully to Alice and fallen asleep, and Tilly was snoring loudly now, Lily having stopped speaking a few minutes ago. 

"I'm okay. I talked to Jane." Io's heart plummeted for some reason. "She said you asked her who did it." Io looked over at Lily's shadowed face.

"Yeah."

"Io, please promise me something," she whispered. "I won't interfere with whatever you're doing, if it really is in the name of making things right, or if you do find out who attacked Jane, but promise me something." Io looked for her eyes, but they were in darkness.

"Alright. What is it?"

"Don't go looking for trouble, okay? Whatever you do, don't get yourself killed."

†††††††††††††††††††††

A few doors away, Remus sat against his headboard with his knees drawn to his chest. On the other side of the room, Sirius and James were conversing in loud whispers, but they weren't what was keeping him awake. His mind kept straying back to Io's tear-stained face, to Curly Hobday, to Severus Snape, to Jane Boot. Round and around, trying to figure out why, how, what. A sliver of moonlight seeped through a gap in his curtains, alighting a strip of silver on his bed. He scowled sub consciously and reached over to twitch them shut.

Should they believe Snape? He could hardly believe that Curly would ever hurt another person, let alone send them to St Mungo's. But Snape had seemed certain, although maybe that was because James was threatening to place a Permanent Sticking Charm on his underwear. Remus felt himself go a little hot with shame. He really should have stopped that. But he hadn't. He'd let his friends get away with bullying, because that was the type of coward he was. He was a Prefect, for God's sake.

"Oi, Moony!"

"Go to sleep," he hissed. He wasn't in the mood for Sirius's antics tonight. For some reason, though, Sirius had become a little more subdued this year. Well, not subdued, exactly, Sirius Orion Suave Black would never allow himself to be subdued, but he had been acting strange lately. Particularly around Remus. He kept throwing him strange glances, smiling secretively to himself when he thought Remus couldn't see it. Hanging onto Remus's every word, and occasionally, Remus had caught him outright staring. It was weird and Remus didn't like the change. 

Everything was changing. Fourth years were attacking people, Io was being wolf-whistled at by sixth years, Peter was getting much more confident, and Remus himself was outgrowing everything he owned. He sometimes wished they could go back to first year, rolling around on the lawns, not even knowing the word Mudblood, James laughing with Lily instead of ogling her. It had all been so much simpler then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise only now that this looks a bit like Remus isn’t into Sirius and that’s definitely not what i meant to convey at all 😂 he’s just super clueless


	8. The Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io's a suspect, Sirius is confused, James is an idiot and Curly is...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Check the comments on the last chapter, I just think I should delete the inventory kind of thing at the beginning, but let me know what you think please!

He saw her from the doorway of the Great Hall, sitting next to Evans. Her hair wasn't up yet, straight, soft sheets of dark brown separated as she ran her fingers through it, bent studiously over a piece of paper. Sirius ruffled his own curls and strode into the Great Hall, trying not to pass anymore notice to Io's hair. Or to Io. He'd been doing that a lot, lately, unconsciously. It made him a bit queasy. Not because she was bad looking, but because she was his friend. Rival. Duelling partner. And because Sirius Black did not catch feelings.

Something crossed his mind: Evans. Prefect. Moony. Prefect. James. In love with Evans. Moony, wingman. A grin spread over Sirius's face. He'd have to take that idea up with James. But first, breakfast.

He flopped down on the bench across from Peter and nicked a bit of bacon from his friend's plate, tossing it into his mouth. Peter didn't even look up.

"Oi, you alright? Mate?" Sirius asked, jogging Peter's elbow. Peter mumbled something incoherent and Sirius bent over to see what he was looking at. "See, what the hell's that?" Sirius exclaimed, snatching up the piece of parchment in front of his friend. It was official looking, kind of, but it was in a weird script. "What's this all about? Investigation?" Peter nodded, still looking grave.

"Yeah. You know, the Jane thing." Sirius's insides plunged. That must have been what he saw Io bending over when he came into the Great Hall. No wonder she looked so down.

"The Jane thing," he breathed, scanning the paper. "Hey, it says something about Aurors. And, 'if anyone has any knowledge of the events on the Express, please contact Professor Dumbledore without delay.'" Sirius looked up at Peter, mirroring his expression. 

"Curly," Peter whispered. "What do we do?"

"We should tell 'em," Sirius decided. "Right? Wait, shit, maybe we should take this up with James and Moony. Where are they, anyway?" Peter shrugged, taking back the paper and squinting at it.

"Myrtle's bathroom, I think. Or the library. On you-know-what." Sirius frowned, then it dawned on him. The Animagus potion. Of course.

"You think they saw this?" He asked, pointing at the notice. Peter nodded.

"Minnie gave 'em to pretty much everyone."

"We should talk to Io first," Sirius said. Peter nodded.

"D'you think she'll go straight to Dumbledore?" Peter whispered, glancing around conspicuously. Sirius looked over at Io just as she looked up at him. Even from a distance, he knew she was worried. Just by the tilt of her shoulders. It was always just something he knew. Their eye contact lasted almost three seconds until they both looked back down. Always almost three seconds. An unspoken agreement.

"Nah, she won't," Sirius said assuredly. "We should find James and Moony. She'll be good. Let's go." Vaguely ignoring the fact that he hadn't eaten anything, Sirius pushed back from the table and stood, Peter following his lead.

"You go library, I'll go Myrtle's," Peter said, uncharacteristically sure of himself. Sirius chanced one last look at Io and nodded.

"Good idea."

†††††††††††††††††††††

"I should go, I've got to get a book from the library," Lily said with a sigh, sipping the last of her orange juice and zipping up her satchel. "I'll see you in Defence, ok?" Io looked up momentarily and nodded, folding down a corner of the notice in front of her. Lily paused. "Io, it'll be alright." Her voice seemed more questioning than assuring. 

"I know," Io said with a smile. "Look, you be careful, yeah?" Lily's expression hardened a little.

"You know it. You too." And with that, she walked off, leaving Io to puzzle over her last two words. Why would she need to be careful? Lily was a Muggleborn, and although Io knew she was fiercely capable of handling herself, she was still worried. But Io was practically pureblood. She pushed the thought away and folded the notice into her pocket. Whatever the Aurors found out, they wouldn't hesitate to arrest Curly if they figured out that she was the culprit, but something about this seemed off to Io. If she'd read Sirius's expression correctly a moment ago, he was confused, too. Of course she would tell someone. But Curly couldn't- wouldn't do that. Io had to find her and question her herself. Snape could have lied. Curly might have-

"Miss Brewsam." Suddenly, there was McGonagall, towering over her with her thin arms crossed and a doomsday expression over her strict face. Io started violently. "I'm afraid you have to come with me," McGonagall said curtly. Io blinked.

"Professor, Defence starts in ten minutes, I-"

"My apologies, Brewsam, but this is a grave matter." Io's heart began to thump. Grave matter? Could this be about Jane and Curly? How would McGonagall know that? Had the boys said something? 

"Professor, is this about the notice? I don't-"

"It would be better if you just came along, Brewsam." Io swallowed and rose slowly, grabbing her bag, and McGonagall turned and swept towards the doors of the Great Hall. Io followed her, feeling people's eyes tracing her movements, listening to mutters build. Just as they reached the doors, Alice and Mary came pounding through the Entrance Hall, clearly having just woken up. They stopped dead when they saw Io following McGonagall through the doors, and Mary's face lost a little colour.

"Io, what's going on?" Alice hissed as they passed. McGonagall paid neither of them any attention, and Io could only shrug helplessly as they made their way to the Grand Staircase. 

They climbed and climbed until Io's legs burned, and they finally arrived at the two Griffins that guarded Dumbledore's study. If Io had been nervous before, she was positively terrified now. The Griffins turned to see them.

"Fizzing Whizzby," McGonagall rapped. They nodded, and there was a great scraping of stone as they turned to reveal the staircase. McGonagall jerked her head towards it and Io stumbled forwards onto the bottom stair. She opened her mouth to ask if McGonagall was coming too, but the professor simply shook her head and began to walk away, her shoes clicking quickly on the stone floor. Io's heart was in her mouth and she stared up the staircase. The door with its eagle knocker seemed to lean down and stare at her menacingly.

"Hurry up, we haven't got all day," one of the Griffins rasped from behind her, with a voice like sand. Io started up the stairs, gripping the strap of her bag, and made it to the top. She reached for the knocker, but before she could touch it, the door swung inwards, violently banging against the wall. The inhabitants of the room turned to stare at her, and she felt as if her heart had stopped. The young Minister for Magic. Two Aurors in brown coats with the Ministry crest on the breast pocket. Hagrid. Two tall wizards in Healer's robes. And Dumbledore, surveying her from behind his desk. Io pushed down nausea. They were staring at her still, but Dumbledore's eyes were kind and understanding, and Hagrid was giving her an encouraging smile.

"Professor McGonagall brought me here," Io began, stepping further in to the room. She'd been in here only twice before, both for losing her temper and being caught by Filch, but it was exactly as she remembered it. Warm, comforting, full of books and odd instruments. Then the door slammed shut behind her, the fire growled a little, and she didn't feel quite so good.

"Thank you. Minister, this is Iona Morrigan-Brewsam," Dumbledore offered, leaning back a little in his chair. The Minister, a short man with a bowler hat clutched in his hands and barely any smile lines, nodded.

"Right. Of course. Miss Morrigan-Brewsam, do you know why you are here?" He asked importantly. Io blinked.

"No," she answered. The Minister cleared his throat and one of the Healers frowned. Oops. Maybe she could have been less blunt. This was the Minister, after all. The Minister blinked and looked to Dumbledore.

"You- you do not know why you are here?"

"That's what I-" Io thought better of herself the second before she disrespected the most powerful man in the government and smiled graciously, despite her thrumming nerves and impatience. "No, Minister." One of the Aurors shifted. The Minister whipped around to stare at Dumbledore.

"You didn't tell her?"

"I was fairly sure if Miss Brewsam had been the culprit, she would surely have owned up by now," Dumbledore replied calmly. Io dug her fingernails into the strap of her bag, not liking where this was going. They'd thought she had attacked Jane?

"Dumbledore, come now. Surely-" the Minister tailed off suddenly, then turned to stare at Io. "One minute. Brewsam?" One of the Aurors tilted her head, a woman with an eyepatch and a shock of short blond hair.

"Not Sage Brewsam's daughter? The Gryffindor?" They were all staring at her, so Io thought she'd better say something.

"Yeah. Um, yes, sir."

"Gosh," one of the Healers said faintly. Io frowned slightly. There was definitely something going on here that needed to come into the light. Dad had left home the night before they went to Hogwarts. Was he in trouble?

"We're getting off topic," puffed the Minister suddenly. 

"Sir, if I may," Hagrid interjected. Io looked at him hopefully, and the Minister took a small step backwards. Hagrid didn't seem to notice. "It couldn'a been Io. I don' believe she would ever do summat like that."

"Thank you, Hagrid," Dumbledore answered softly.

"Well, yes, that's all very well, but we can't just take an opinion, Mr Hagrid," the Minister said. "Miss Morrigan-Brewsam performed magic on the Hogwarts Express. That is why she is the only suspect so far."

"No, that was the Healing spell, that was a counter-curse-" Io blurted, but stumbled to a halt when the Minister gave her a scrutinising look.

"The Healing spell?" One of the Healers asked, folding his arms inside his sleeves. "What incantation?"

"Vulnera Sanentur," Io said, "but surely if you can track the magic, you would have known what type it was-"

"I wasn't aware you taught the insanguination incantation here," the Healer interrupted, turning to Dumbledore.

"We do not," Dumbledore conceded. Io felt herself flush. 

"I-I learnt it from the library," she lied. Both Healers and Aurors stared at her.

"That is a very complicated spell, Miss Morrigan-Brewsam, how on earth did you manage to perfect it?"

"Well, I didn't do very well," Io said, trying not to think of the image of Jane's blood pooling out beneath her, soaking Io's jacket and Lily's hands. "Can I go, now?"

"You most certainly may not go," gasped the Minister. "Moody, why did I not know that the spell cast was a counter-curse?" The second Auror, the male with a short mane of slightly greyed hair, shrugged.

"I wasn't the one who made the report, Minister. Proudfoot was. He's been known to cock things up from time to time." The Minister blinked rapidly and went slightly red. Io fought not to laugh.

"Are we agreed, Minister, that Miss Brewsam was not the culprit?" Dumbledore interjected, somewhat impatiently. The Minister looked to the Healers, who both nodded, and he seemed to concede.

"Very well. Investigation still ongoing, I suppose. Purloin, Vaughn, if you would talk to Madame Pomfrey and Miss Boot again, please. Moody, Bennet. Um, feel free to stop in on any lessons and, um, do...look for clues. Come along, then. Thank you, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Miss Morrigan-Brewsam." The Minister gave a pompous nod to Dumbledore, a wary look to Hagrid, and strode for the door. The two Healers followed suit, and the Auror Moody rolled his eyes before following, Bennet just behind him. As they left, both Aurors nodded at Io, and when the door closed, Hagrid breathed a heavy sigh of relief, ruffling Io's hair, even from where he was standing, at least five feet away.

"Well, I'd best be going. Thank you, Headmaster. And be careful, Io."

"Thank you, Hagrid," Io said, utterly relieved, throwing her arms around his expansive middle. He smiled, patted her head, and when she'd let go, he walked out the door with one last worried smile thrown over his shoulder. 

"It'll be alrigh', Io," he assured. The door shut behind him and Dumbledore cleared his throat. Io looked back around.

"Yes, sir?"

"You conducted yourself admirably, Miss Brewsam. And I was impressed with your alleged spellwork."

"Thank you."

"However," he said with a warning tone, looking over his half-moon glasses at her with a sharp blue stare, "I must urge you to stay out of the way of this investigation. This is a grave matter, and I would prefer for it to be solved as soon as possible. Any information you may have, please do not hesitate to come straight to me." It was like he was reading her mind. Io straightened and tried not to give anything away. She had to find Curly before something happened. Had to find the actual attacker, or a mastermind. Anything.

"Yes, sir. Of course." She turned and started for the door, aware of his eyes still burning holes in the back of her head. She shut the door behind her and took the stairs two at a time, then raced for Gryffindor tower. If she couldn't find the boys, then she might as well look for Curly on the map, find her, and sort this whole thing out. She was convinced it was Death Eater work, and no one in this school was going to be serving Voldemort under her watch. She supposed she wouldn't be going to Defence Against The Dark Arts today, but justice was calling.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Lily dumped her bag on her desk, humming the tune to Brandy and trying to fit in all the extra parts as well as she searched for her quill. Io's seat was empty, but she was always late. 

"Evans!" Lily cursed internally and turned around, eyeing James Potter with an evil glare.

"What?" She snapped. He grinned at her, as per usual, and ran the tips of his fingers over his hair. Beside him, Remus seemed to be wearily ignoring his friend's antics. Black and Peter were nowhere to be seen. Lily didn't know whether to be relieved or apprehensive.

"That's a nice tune, huh?" He drawled, then began to sing the lyrics to Brandy, completely out of tune. "You're a fine girl..." he crooned, swaying from side to side. Lily tightened her jaw and turned around to face the front again. "Cause you are, Evans. You're a fine girl..."

"Shut up, Potter," someone hollered from the back.

"They say Lily! Fetch another round! And she serves 'em whiskey and wine..." he carried on, ignoring Remus' attempts to yank him back into his seat. Lily's hand tightened on her wand. He was already irritating her, and this was only the second lesson this term he'd been in with her. "Come on, Evans, sing along!"

"Where are your minions, Potter? Start a choir with them," she snapped. The singing stopped, and Potter whispered something to Remus. Momentarily triumphant, Lily pulled out her books and quill, just as Severus slunk into the seat beside her. "Hey, Sev," she greeted. He managed a reluctant smile, and warning bells started to ring immediately in her head. "Everything alright?" He nodded, then shrugged, then was about to speak when-

"Oi, Snivelly! Did ya wash your face last night? Or is that glow just all the grease from the last fifteen years?" Wonderful. Sirius Black had entered the classroom. Lily didn't hesitate in twisting in her seat and firing off two quick Jelly-Legs Jinxes in Black's general direction. The first he blocked, but the second he had to dive away from, and it hit Potter instead. Good enough. The class burst into laughter and Lily turned back to the front, as Potter wiggled around stupidly on the floor, to continue her conversation with Severus.

†††††††††††††††††††††

She hadn't found the boys. But the blank map had been lying out on Peter's bed when she'd crept into their room, so she'd swiped that, located Curly, and practically flown to the second floor girl's lavatory, map and wand in hand and dodging any teachers by disappearing down the narrow secret passages she'd learnt off by heart by now. 

The bathroom seemed empty when she walked up to the door, panting to try and get her breath back. It always seemed empty, because Myrtle scared away any sane person who tried to go in. Io and the boys had been brewing their third attempt at becoming Animagi in there since the spring of fourth year, purely because no one would stumble across them. Io checked the map again. There was her dot. And there was Curly's, on the other side of the sinks. Still. Silent. Io felt a chill creeping down her spine. What if Snape had told someone that the boys knew, and someone had gone for Curly? She pushed open the door silently and stepped in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up soon....  
> Sorry it was short lol


	9. A List Of S**t That’s Gonna Go Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to be clearing up. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moody teenagers, threatening Wizard-fascist presence, Unforgivable Curses - yikes! Also I’m running out of chapter name ideas, so leave me some in the comments ;) along with criticism of course, I welcome it! Always want to be making my writing better.

"Curly?" No answer from the other side of the sinks. Something _whooshed_ from behind Io as she stepped into the bathroom, and she whipped around, only to see Moaning Myrtle hovering near the ceiling with wide, curious eyes. Io stepped around the circular sinks, hand on her wand inside her robes. "Curly?" Dread was filling her lungs like gas at the oncoming silence.

"Io?" Io rounded the last curve and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Curly's voice. Because there she was, huddled under the sink, one hand clutched around her wand. Io sank down into a crouch before Curly and smiled.

"Yeah. You alright?" She asked softly. Curly shivered and shook her head, and Io only then noticed how wide her eyes were, the greyish colour to her skin. 

"I- there's-"

"I know what you did," Io said urgently. Curly's eyes glistened with sudden tears.

"No!" Her voice rang like an off tune bell chime throughout the bathroom.

"Someone's in trouble," Myrtle cooed from the ceiling.

"I didn't, I- she made me. Io, please help me," Curly sobbed, dashing the tears from her eyes. "Somebody knows, they're going to hurt me!" Io stared at her, somehow not even shocked. Somehow...triumphant. Thank God Curly hadn't meant to do it.

"Who made you do it?" She asked. "Tell me, and I'll help, okay?" Curly shook and cried and mumbled incoherently. "Curly, we have to tell Dumbledore, or you're going to be in trouble. Curly!" Curly nodded and uncurled from under the sink, wiping her cheeks. Io helped her up. "It'll be alright. All you have to do is tell Dumbledore exactly what happened, yeah?" Io was so wrapped up in comforting Curly as she led her to the door, she didn't notice the footsteps coming along the corridor, or Myrtle's scandalised gasps.

"Who's in there?" Someone called. Io froze, and Curly hiccuped. "Hello? It's lesson time. I hope you have permission to be up here." It was Arule. Io would know his gravelly voice anywhere. She motioned for Curly to stay behind the sinks and walked out into the open. Arule was peering through the doors, and looked taken aback when he saw her. "Iona! What are you doing?" 

"Just...needed the toilet," she tried nonchalantly. 

"These toilets have been out of order for thirty years," Arule deadpanned. "What are you really doing here? Nothing illegal?" Io scoffed.

"Oh, you're one to talk. Set anymore dragonfire bombs off lately?" Arule reddened, and Io revelled a little. However much Arule loved to invent and improve, he maintained that he always stood by the rules, which was how he had become prefect. The dragonfire bombs had been a smudge on his perfect record, and had almost revealed all the other somewhat dangerous and threatening experiments he'd conducted before.

"Don't you have lessons?" He snapped.

"Yeah," Io shot back. Wait, no-

"So why aren't you at them? Do you need another detention?"

"No. Just having a chat with Myrtle."

"Get out of here. Go on, go!" Io just scowled and crossed her arms. "What, do I need to walk you there?" Arule grabbed her elbow and marched her out of the door and down the corridor. Reluctantly, Io let him.

"Rule, d'you know anything about what dad's been doing?" She tried, once they were out of earshot of Curly. 

"Why?" He asked distractedly, turning a corner to take them onto the Grand Staircase. Io shrugged.

"Well, I got pulled to Ol' Dumber's, and--"

"Professor Dumbledore," Arule corrected hastily as they passed Professor Vector's open classroom door.

"Yeah, cause they thought I was the one who slashed Jane Boot up-" That got his attention. He yanked her down a side corridor and into a smaller passageway who's door was pretending to be a tapestry.

"What?" He hissed. Io yanked her arm out of his grip.

"Don't get ya robes in a twist!" She growled. "I said they thought I attacked Jane Boot. But obviously I didn't-"

"Why did they think you did?" Arule asked urgently. Io frowned. What did it matter?

"Cause I used the Vulnera Sanentur on Jane when we found her. Anyways, point is, Dumber called me Brewsam, and the Minister went all red and kinda like a fish, and the Healers were like, 'golly gosh'," Io explained, putting on a ridiculous posh accent for her impression. "So like, what? Is dad in trouble? Or prison? What?" Arule checked over his shoulder at the tapestry door.

"Look, Io, I got an owl from Dad this morning, okay? But promise me you don't freak out?"

"What?" Io asked, her heart beat starting to quicken. Arule sighed.

"He said a lot, but mostly he said he thinks he's being hunted."

"By who?" Io interrupted hysterically.

"I said, don't freak out, you dumb Flobberworm!" Arule hissed, checking the door again. "No one can know, alright? No one." Io nodded frantically, just wanting him to get on with it. He looked down at his feet. "He thinks it's the Death Eaters." Io's world seemed to tip like the bow of a boat in a storm.

"What?"

"He thinks they're looking for him for a lot of reasons, but he only mentioned these: he made a 'dirty bloodline'," - Arule's face contorted around the words like they tasted bad - "With mum, he tried to sentence that Death Eater guy, Unctus, and because maybe, could be, that mum's with them as well." If Io had tipped before, she was sinking now.

"No."

"I know, that's what I thought, too." Arule's eyes were heavy under his mess of curls.

"She can't be." Io hated how broken her voice sounded.

"I know. But she could-"

"No, she can't." She refused to believe it. She may hate her mother, but she couldn't- she could never-

"Io, listen. It's facts, alright? She might be, Gale's gone and Dad's in trouble, so we have to stick together. We're blood traitors and Mudbloods to them, you know? Look at me." She did, and he grabbed her in a quick hug, then let go. "We have to have each other's backs. There are Death Eater kids here at Hogwarts, and no one with an obvious trace of Muggle blood in them is safe, alright? 'Specially us, and Darwin, and a lot of your friends. They hate blood traitors the most. Dad said to make sure you don't go making anymore enemies. So look out for yourself, look out for your friends and _don't do anything stupid_. I'll write to Daisy, make sure she's safe, I'll write to Dad and Gale, but for Merlin's sake don't go looking for anything. Stay out of the Jane Boot thing. Do your work. Keep your head down." He paused, and Io nodded resolutely.

"Yeah. You too. If you hear any news, tell me?" She asked hopefully. Arule nodded.

"You know it. C'mere." He gathered her in another hug and she tightened her hold on him. He smelt like smoke and laundry, somehow both at the same time. It was familiar and she held on to it. Something to be brave about.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io slipped into Defence Against The Dark Arts ten minutes before it ended, with a nonsense excuse about Hospital Wing, and immediately began crafting a note to Remus about Curly. She was at least physically staying out of it, she reassured herself as she remembered Arule's warning. And Lily's. And Dumbledore's. So many people were telling her to stop, but she couldn't stand by. This was the right thing to do, she was sure. 

_Myrtle's bathroom. Tell her I told you, and take her to tell Dumbledore everything_

She flicked the note at Remus behind her, and heard him unfolding it. About ten seconds later, he put up his hand and asked to be excused for the toilet. Professor Bentbrooke, their teacher, let him go instantly. Perks of being a suck up, Io thought affectionately. Remus left quietly with his bag, and a small part of Io slipped into relief. But she couldn't rest. There was bound to be another attack, and soon.

†††††††††††††††††††††

At break, out in the sunny Transfiguration Courtyard, Io told James, Sirius and Peter all about the encounter with Curly. They listened, rapt and aghast.

"Imperius Curse, must be," James muttered.

"I sent Remus to get her. I hope she's okay," Io replied. Peter shook his head.

"Don't s'pose anyone would be okay after that," he said solemnly. There was a short silence, until Sirius started to speak.

"So they tracked your underage magic?" He asked. Io nodded, and Sirius frowned. "Then surely they would have tracked Curly's, too. And the Curse caster."

"Shit..." James breathed. "The caster must've been an adult. That is awful."

"Or a seventh year," Io interjected. "You come of age when you're seventeen."

"Wait, that means Curly didn't use magic," Sirius hissed urgently. "They would have tracked that, too." There was a deathly silence, in which Io's stomach lurched unpleasantly.

"You're saying Curly Hobday tried to hack a girl to death with a knife?" James asked incredulously. Peter shushed him, and Sirius gave a grave shrug. "That is so messed up," James whined, speaking all their thoughts aloud.

"I really hope this year can't get any worse," Io groaned.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Unfortunately, it could. Sirius and Io sat down in History of Magic together after break, neither in the mood to antagonise the other. Emma Vanity and Lucy Renshaw came in after them, and Lucy threw Io a cheerful smile, but when Emma saw Io, she turned positively pale. 

"What's with her?" Sirius muttered, pulling his books and quill from his bag.

"Dunno," Io answered. "She's been funny with me since the train." She watched Emma drag Lucy to the furthest desk from Io.

"The train..." Sirius mused. "You don't think it's about the Jane thing, do you?" Io frowned.

"Hope not. Otherwise this is all gonna get a lot more complicated." Sirius chanced one more look back at Emma, then turned to the front, apparently deep in thought. Io wished he would speak. She didn't want to think - not about anything. And every time she stopped doing things, Arule's words, Curly's sobbing, her mother's piercing shout, it all rung in her ears. She jogged her knee as they waited for Binns to come gliding in, and accidentally knocked Sirius's elbow aside. His arm jerked, tipping his ink pot, and a black cloud of ink washed over his desk and his other sleeve. He jumped from his seat suddenly with a shout, and the entire class turned to look.

"What the hell, Brewsam?" He yelled, grabbing a sheet of parchment and trying to blot the ink off his robes, unsuccessfully. "What's wrong with you?" Io flinched reflexively at his shout, and wished she hadn't. Everyone was looking. Her hands were shaking now. 

"Sorry," she shot back, trying to push away her nervousness. Irritability descended. Why was he overreacting? 

"Oh, you're fucking sorry," he snapped, wiping off his tie and smudging ink all over it. "Great," he muttered, slapping the parchment down on the desk. Io started at the sound and Sirius stormed out of the classroom, right through Professor Binns, coming the other way. 

"Watch yourself, Bodkin," Binns said dazedly as Sirius stalked off down the corridor. Io sank into her seat, aware of all the eyes and blushing furiously, incredibly embarrassed. Leave it to Sirius Black to make a scene out of nothing. Drama queen. What had he been so angry about, anyways? 

Binns drifted to the front of the class as the class began to mutter. Io scratched ink off her fingertips and tried not to think. 

"Quiet down," Binns called softly, taking a piece of chalk to the blackboard. The mutterings continued, although Io suspected they weren't about her and Sirius anymore. Everyone was wondering about the attack. Io had passed at least three groups in the corridors speculating about if there would be another one. "Quiet down, please," Binns said loudly, suddenly uncharacteristically angry, and the class fell into shocked silence. "Thank you. Open A History Of Magic. Pages eight hundred and thirty to nine hundred, the first chapter on Giant Wars. This year is your O.W.L.s year, for which you will be studying until the summer-" he fell back into his normal drone and there was a rustle all around the class of books being opened and quills and parchment brought out. Io usually somewhat liked History of Magic, but today was warm and dry and she couldn't bother to even open her book. She was tired and worried and she didn't want to be here. She wanted to be with Curly, or confronting Emma, or asking Sirius what the hell was wrong with him. She wanted to be _doing something_.

Someone rushed in through the door a few minutes later, startling Io out of a stupor, and the entire class looked around, rustling suspiciously. Remus had arrived, hair wild from running, cheeks pink.

“Sorry I'm late, Professor,” He panted courteously, dropping into the Seat the other side of Io, the desk without ink and parchment all over it.

“No harm done, Larple,” Binns droned, turning back to the board. “As I was saying, the Chieftain at the time, Corius the Gory, most notably recognised by his personal necklace of human spines-“

“What happened?” Io hissed out of the corner of her mouth at Remus.

“We told Dumbledore. Curly’s still in his office, he’s owled her parents and explained everything. Flitwick’s with her.”

“Flitwick?”

“Yeah, her head of house. Listen, we gotta re-convene at lunch, alright?”

“What do you mean?” Io asked. But Remus just waved her off and slid parchment from his bag, readying his quill to start taking notes. Io snatched his quill away and he lunged for it, but missed and dropped his arm in the puddle of ink on Sirius’s desk.

“Fuck!”

“Language,” Io teased. Remus flicked ink at her.

“I need my quill.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!”

“Nothing’s going on!”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“I’ll break your quill,” Io said, placing her fingers around the middle and bending Remus’s pride and joy peacock quill. His face stretched comically and he lunged for it again. Io tried to jerk it away but his arms were basically twice as long as hers and he grabbed it easily, then sat back in his seat with a grumble.

“You are a child.”

“Tell me.”

“Snitches get stitches.” Io rolled her eyes.

“That’s not even close to contextual here.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll say at lunch,” he said carelessly, starting to write his notes. Io sighed and dipped a finger in the ink on the other desks.

“Is it another attack?”

“No. Is there another attack?”

“Don’t think so, but Emma from Slytherin is being super weird around me, so I thought-“

“Yeah, yeah, now let me focus on my schoolwork that will actually do me some good,” he replied. Io smeared her inky finger over his cheek and he swore and batted her hand away. “Honestly, what’s wrong with you?” He sighed, trying to rub it off.

“I’m bored,” Io whined, tapping her foot. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Is it Sirius?” She asked. Remus snapped his head round.

“What happened with Sirius?” The worry line between his eyebrows was carved inwards, and Io cocked her head.

“Why are you so attentive all of a sudden? Are you two secretly dating, or something?” Io scrunched up her nose and pretended to cast a wandless spell. “Legilimens,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Tell me your secrets… are you banging Sirius Orion Suave Black?” Remus snorted.

“As if.”

“Aw, Sirius would be crushed,” Io said with a pout. “Honestly, it's a shame. You two would make a power couple.”

“Sirius doesn’t _date_ ,” Remus replied derisively.

“Do I detect a hint of wist?”

“No, you do not. What happened, anyway?” Remus had brushed off her question, but she was fairly sure she saw a hint of a blush. She hid a grin. If they were boning, she could totally get behind that. She decided to cut him some slack, let him work it out on his own. For now, she was determined to get Sirius back for making a scene in front of their entire class like a spoilt first year.

“I accidentally spilt his ink and he yelled at me and stormed out.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like off behaviour for him. He does like to make a scene. You know, like how it’s not a Quidditch victory party until he’s stubbed his toe, complained to the entire population of Scotland about his untimely death, and then forced me to bring him spiked pumpkin juice to ‘heal’ it.” Io laughed in agreement.

“How could I forget? But he was fine before, then suddenly… boom.” Remus looked at her quizzically, still scribbling down dates.

“Boom.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ll see if he’s alright. Was that 1872, Herman the Sick, or Herman the Sickly?”

“Herman the Eighth.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Herman the Eighth. Can we make a list, by the way?” Io asked, sliding some parchment from Remus’s bag.

“Of what?”

“Shit that needs to go down.”

“Oh, right. Okay. But you have to write it, because I’m taking notes.”

“Sure. What do we got? Emma, Sirius, Quidditch-“

“Should Quidditch be on there?”

“If it’s not, I’ll forget and Gwenog’ll skin me alive. Now shush, I thought you were taking notes. Rooting out the Death Eaters that might try and kill people, your furry li’l problem-“

“Talk quieter,” Remus muttered, suddenly cautious.

“Sorry,” Io stage-whispered, but she humoured him and carried on in a lower voice. “The you-know-what illegal potion, Snape-“

“Why Snape?” Remus asked warily, and Io remembered their talk in the alcove.

“Shut up and take your notes. Cause he’s probably a Death Eater and Lily says he’s not acting the same as last year. Don’t worry, I won’t let Mr Egotistical and Mr Suave bully him. Oh, also: it’s Sirius’s birthday soon.”

“In two months.”

“Yeah. Soon. We need to start planning. And lastly, we need to figure out how to get Deion Vaughn the hell away from me.” It was Remus’s turn to look smug.

“Not enjoying the advances from your suitors, eh?”

“Shut up. He’s fine, it’s just… we would not make a good pair.” Io dotted the ‘i’ of Deion and scowled at his name. “Nobody seems to take my hints that I hate them all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone know/write any good Agent Carter stuff?


	10. Sunrise and Moonbeam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders and Io are well on their path to becoming illegal Animagi. Curly’s mastermind is keeping quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noice!!! I’m writing so much lol  
> Leave a comment! Help me improve!

There was a letter waiting for Io in her dorm when she ran up to put away her books during lunch. It had been placed on the open window, no owl in sight. Io picked it up, turned it over, lost interest and tossed it onto her bed. She was eager to see whatever Remus had been keeping secret during History of Magic, so she grabbed her Ancient Runes books and left again, almost knocking over Rio on her way out. Rio stumbled back against the wall and Io apologised profusely, steadying her. Rio yanked herself away from Io's hand with a scowl.

"The hell do you want?" She snapped. Io stared at her, taken aback. She looked dreadful. Her eyelids were tinged red from crying and blue from lack of sleep, and her normally bronzed skin was greyish.

"You good?"

"No, I'm not fucking good, Brewsam! My best friend got slashed up for being Muggleborn and everyone keeps fucking asking me if I'm good! Why do you even care? Leave me alone!" She pushed past Io and into her own dorm with a sob and a slammed door, and Io stood there for a moment, then decided against bothering her and left the tower, her temporary good mood evaporated.

—————————————————————————————————————

The boys were all huddled around something in Myrtle’s bathroom when she got there, chattering excitedly. Myrtle was nowhere to be seen, but she’d been all over them last year, so Io was fairly sure she was probably hiding somewhere.

“-and Filch was at the doors so I had to Vanish it, then call it back again-“ Remus was saying in hushed undertones. Io let the door shut loudly and they all whipped around, guilt and fear written over every face. They relaxed when they saw it was her.

“Tut tut, Mr Lupin. Ain’t you a Prefect?” She teased, sauntering over. “Was this what you skipped the Express for?” Remus held out a small wooden box, and lying inside was what they had been missing the entire time. An ingredient so rare they’d had to scour the most unsavoury markets to find it. Sirius had swiped a sack of Galleons from his mother’s Gringotts vault for the outrageous price, and Io was pretty sure that if nothing else, this had been the most illegal part of becoming Animagi. So far, anyways. The Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis. Four of them, little silver cocoons, arranged in a little star shape. Childish and pretty. 

For a few moments, Io felt completely drowned. In what, she didn’t know. Apprehension? Fear? They were attempting illegal magic at fifteen years old in order to accompany a werewolf at the full moon, about to make a two month-long potion that could kill them, mutate them or permanently disfigure them if one step, stir or ingredient was missed. The danger lit her insides on fire, and when she looked up, the others all had that bright gleam of excitement in their eyes. 

“Let’s get started,” James said with a shaky grin.

—————————————————————————————————————

The first step, according to the old Restricted book, ‘Transmutations, Transfigurations, Transformations’ that Remus had managed to wean off Madame Pince by flashing his Prefect badge and innocent smile, was to each hold a Mandrake leaf in their mouths for a month, uninterrupted. Peter had been worried about eating and drinking, and James had raised the point of shouting in Quidditch, so they’d spent all last year practicing hand gestures and signs with the other Chaser, Kümmel Kunberg (who unfortunately had gone back to Sweden for his last school year), much to their captain’s chagrin, and had spent hours in the library trying to find spells that would transfer their meals directly to their stomachs. Sirius had moaned about not being able to ask anyone off for a snog, and James had irritably said if he was that desperate for a snog, he should just bag Remus. Remus had blushed like an idiot and loudly carried on the conversation.

Sirius pulled four mandrake leaves from the pocket of his robes and handed them round solemnly. Io took one and Remus watched as the four of them placed a leaf inside their mouths. Io grimaced at the same time as James, and Peter made a strange sound: it tasted like limp, boiled tree bark. How was she going to be able to keep this up for a month? 

There was a rustle from one of the cubicles and they all swung round, only to see Myrtle peering interestedly over the top, silver eyes wide.

“Bugger off, Myrtle,” Remus called apprehensively, eyeing the closed doors. Myrtle pouted.

“That’s not very nice. I only wanted to watch your illegal potion being made. Maybe I could help?”

“Mmmrfgh,” Sirius grumbled.

“Don’t tell on us,” Remus translated warningly.

“I would never,” replied Myrtle, with a mock gasp.

“Gowhhr,” Peter tried.

“Go away,” Remus repeated. Myrtle’s eyes shone with tears suddenly.

“I only wanted to help!” She wailed angrily. 

“Shut up,” Remus hissed warningly, But she let out another long groan of anguish and disappeared down the toilet with a squeal and a splash. The pipes gurgled for a little bit while they listened cautiously, but she didn’t come back, and no one came from the corridor to investigate. Myrtle was always making strange noises. 

Remus turned back to them all and shut the chrysalis box with a snap. 

“We’ve got a month ahead of us. For God’s sake _don’t get caught_. Alright?” They all nodded earnestly and silently. 

“Wgdid,” Peter said with a solemn nod. Although cautious, Remus looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Alright. Write anything you have to say on a piece of parchment. _Sorbere_ is the incantation for eating and drinking: Peter remember to say it very clearly inside your head, James remember to use your wand and Sirius, remember not to swallow your leaf. Or choke. Or anything.”

“Ighpff,” Sirius replied indignantly, and almost immediately choked on his leaf. Remus gave a long-suffering sigh and checked his worn wristwatch.

“Well, class starts in two minutes. Good luck.” And off they went.

—————————————————————————————————————

The next month was a trial. Between classes, suspicious questions from Marlene and Arule, Gwenog Jones’s increasing frustration at Quidditch practice with the two of them and Io’s unsated curiosity about the Curly businesses, it was exhausting. Particularly seeing as now that Kümmel had left from the Quidditch team, the Chaser was replaced with Caine Leeroy, who knew none of the hand gestures that James and Io had come up with. Io even found it hard to convey emotion without opening her mouth, so when Tilly exclaimed that she’d been picked for reserve Chaser after the Gryffindor tryouts, all Io could manage was a sort of approving silence.

There had been no more attacks at Hogwarts, but now that the mystery Curse-caster was keeping quiet, Io had no way of getting behind the Curly thing and finding out anything, especially with having to keep her mouth sewn shut the whole time. Emma Vanity was still giving her a strange berth, and some of those seventh years seemed particularly weird now. It was frustrating that she couldn’t do anything, but she couldn’t very well ask Remus or Lily to find things out: Remus’s approach to his next transformation was unusually tiring, and Lily was upset that Severus seemed to be drifting away. Io couldn’t console her and then ask her if her friend was secretly a Death Eater. It would send her into meltdown. The only good product of this whole ordeal was that Deion seemed to be staying out of her way. For once.

So when the month of silence and detentions and strange looks and accusatory yelling from Gwenog was over, Io was immensely relieved. At midnight of the full moon, shivering, in the October dark, they gathered in the Clocktower courtyard where the moon’s rays were brightest. Peter had snagged four crystal phials from one of the Potion storerooms, and one by one, they pulled the tasteless leaves off their tongues and stuffed them into their own phials, holding them up to catch the light of the moon. Each one sparked and shone for a second, and then the light died and they glittered instead. James held out a special bag he’d made, that let no light in, and Sirius reached in for the bottle of dew and the teaspoons. Silently, they each added a teaspoon of the dew that had been in the bag for exactly seven days, untouched, to their phials. James tossed the bag aside and pulled a short strand of hair from his head, and the rest of them followed suit, then added them to their phials. Io’s heart was thudding rapidly. Peter’s fingers were twitching. Sirius was chewing on a chapped lip, and James had those crossed lines between his eyebrows: his concentration lines.

Io pulled the chrysalis box from her pocket and opened it, offering to Peter on her right, then James across from her, then Sirius, then took hers, dropped it into her phial and stoppered it tightly. Even as she watched through the crystal wall, the hair, leaf and chrysalis dissolved into the dew, the phial filling with a clear solution. James picked up the bag again and they dropped their phials into the dark interior. Now, every day until a lightning storm, they would have to sit with their wand over their heart at every sunrise and sunset and chant the incantation: ‘Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus’. Luck was on their side, however. The next lightning storm was due in three days, according to the Magical Meteorological Magisterial. 

James closed the bag and shook out the Invisibility Cloak, nodding for them to get under. Peter scurried in and Io after him, but Sirius hesitated, turning to look over at the Whomping Willow. The full moon flowed above them, huge and clear, and Io’s heart stretched painfully when she realised he must be thinking of Remus, down in the Shrieking Shack, alone and in pain. She reached for Sirius’s arm, and he looked back at her. His eyes were dark under the light of the moon, hollows in his face. His expression was stone.

“It’s the last one,” she said. “Next time, we’ll be there with him.” He seemed to draw himself up, strengthen himself, and he let her pull him in under the cloak. She didn’t let go of him the whole way back to the tower.

—————————————————————————————————————

At sunset the next day, Peter leant on her shoulder with a yawn as they sat on the lawns by the lake, watching the glow of the sun tinge the horizon a beautiful pink. On her other side, Sirius had his wand ready over his heart. Suddenly, Io remembered what she’d forgotten to ask him for a month. Bad timing, she supposed. But she’d forget soon, so what better time than now?

“When I spilt your ink…” she started, and he huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Sorry? I thought you were too proud to ever apologise to me,” she said, with the pretence of shock. He bumped her shoulder with his sharp elbow and she kicked his feet. “What even happened?” He looked down at his feet, then at James and Peter, who were half asleep and not listening.

“Saw Reg in the corridor. With Bellatrix and that Malfoy idiot.” He spat the names out with a twisted expression. Io’s stomach dropped a little.

“You don’t think-“

“He’s joined their little cult? Yeah, I do.” He tipped his head back and sighed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly and his hair falling off his forehead. “Well, either that or he’s initiating. Whatever psychotic shit they do.” He looked at her, just a glance, then away at the sunrise. “I thought I could save him from all of them. I guess I’m only now figuring out he doesn’t wanna be saved,” he said. His voice was choked, and there was a gleam of tears, or maybe just the reflection of the sky, in his eyes.

“You can’t save someone from themselves,” Io said softly, trying not to think of her mother.

“We would know, wouldn’t we?” He replied. So he’d guessed her thoughts. She smiled bitterly.

“Yeah.” She pressed her cheek into his shoulder, into the leather jacket he’d thrown on over his pyjamas. He smelled like cigarettes and chocolate and soap, and the sun touched one golden finger into the sky. She tried to fix this memory into her mind, the cold sunset, the warm weight of Peter and James, the soft comfort of Sirius as he rested his chin on her head. And then the morning light stretched over the horizon and the other two woke and drew their wands.

“Ready?” James asked. Io touched the tip of her wand to her heart, and Sirius reached for her arm and held it. “On three. One. Two. Three.”

“Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I realise this is super like oc x Sirius and cliché and annoying but it’s because  
> I like Wolfstar  
> But I also like Sirius??! Also he gives me mad bi vibes soooo


	11. Amato, Amino, Animato, Animagus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All is peaceful, Io keeps getting detentions & letting down her friends, as per uze. Remus is hopelessly in love with Sirius. Sirius is an oblivious dick. Awesome

Remus sat with the others, just outside the Forbidden Forest treeline, and watched the storm brewing in the night sky with an ache of dread. It was faint, but it was there. A weight of responsibility, for this going wrong, for him hurting one of them, for any mistake or miscalculation he might have made over this whole ordeal. The clouds bunched overhead with an ominous crackle, and the four dispersed into the trees at regular intervals. Remus pulled the hood of James’s jumper over his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets, occasionally darting a cautious glance towards the darkened castle, which was almost hidden by the crest of a hill. He shivered unconsciously as a loud boom of thunder echoed off the mountains, and somewhere over the Forest, a spear of lightning crackled and shone. No one returned. No sounds from the four people drinking an illegal potion in an illegal forest, about to do something very illegal.

Another strike of lightning lit up the night, and rain started to pour, without any warning. Remus darted under the cover of the nearest tree and peered into the Forest, adjusted eyes searching keenly through the dark for any sight of his friends. They must have gone deep in, he thought. Something rustled out of the treeline, small and squeaking, and Remus looked down to see a rat, spinning in circles and squealing like it was on drugs. He shuffled away, unnerved, and the rat seemed to convulse, then grow, then take shape, then-

“Peter?” Peter leapt on him with triumphant excitement, squealing just like his animal counterpart. Relief flooded Remus’s mind and he hugged his friend, both of them whooping with victory as they danced around, out into the rain. Golden excitement filled Remus’s stomach and he laughed as Peter popped into a rat, then back, then back, then into a human again and turned a cartwheel over the wet grass, skipping and jumping and shaking water from his mousy curls.

“I’m a rat!” He yelled, “I’m a rat! I’ve got a tail! I’ve got whiskers! I’m a rat!” Remus doubled over with laughter as Peter crowded and whooped and danced away, and the next thing Remus knew, he was flat on his back in the pouring rain, a huge black dog pinning him down. The dog’s body was wiggling with delight, and Remus knew instantly who it was.

“Of course you’re a black dog, Dogstar,” he said with a grin. Sirius licked his face and Remus shoved him off, and Sirius popped back into his human form and wrestled Remus into the grass again, laughing and panting. And pinning him down. Sirius’s grin was wild in the moonlit rain and his wet curls were dropping onto Remus’s forehead. Distantly, Remus heard Peter’s victorious shouts, but he wasn’t focused on that. He was focused on the warm press of Sirius’s chest, the heat of his breath, the crazed look on his handsome face, gleaming from the light of the sky. 

Hooves. Pounding. Alarm bells rang in Remus’s head -Centaurs-Thestrals-Hippogriffs- and Sirius looked over his shoulder, then yelled in surprise and terror and pulled them both to the side. A stag leapt over their prostate bodies, soaring over their heads, then thumped to the ground, skidded to a stop, and shrank down to the size of James. Remus felt Sirius’s arms still gripped around his waist, and was a little disappointed when Sirius roared with triumph, leapt up and tackled James with a victory hug.

“You’re a stag, you fucking idiot! Obviously! A fucking stag!” He let out a howl of joy and James joined in with a laugh.

“What were you?” He gasped when Sirius let go of him. Remus rose to his feet, brushing grass from his arse.

“Black dog,” he called, and James broke out into laughter.

“Dogstar Black the black dog,” he bleated, shoving Sirius. In retaliation, Sirius jumped on him and scrubbed his hair into his head. 

“Incoming!” Peter roared from somewhere behind them, and the next minute he was jumping on top of them, taking the three of them to the ground. Remus, his heart swelling with happiness, ran at them all and threw himself on top, ignoring James’s pained groans. Somewhere in the pile of squirming boys, Sirius reached for him and squeezed his hand, the simple gesture sending shoots of euphoria up Remus’s arm.

Then a roar shook the trees behind them and they scrambled apart, fearful and reaching for their wands. The rain was still beating down and they were all soaked, but a second roar issued from the forest and there was no chance of suggesting cover in the trees. A silence followed, broken only by the water rushing past their ears, and the boys all looked at each other fearfully.

“Any idea what that is, Moony?” James asked with a fearful tremble in his voice.

“Io’s still in there,” Sirius said, barely a whisper, and Remus’s heart stopped cold. Responsibility. He cursed himself. The Forest had been a stupid idea. Why hadn’t they taken advantage of the space on the lawns? Well, whatever happened, Io was in there, alone. There was a growl, low and loud. No screaming. But then, Io wouldn’t scream if she was faced with a fight. Not in fear, anyway. Peter was trembling next to him, and James was ashen faced. Another growl. Sirius started forwards and Remus lunged for the back of his shirt, but he was too slow and Sirius sprinted into the Forest, yelling Io’s name. Despair lurched in Remus’s stomach and determined not to lose two of his friends, he ran forwards after Sirius, wand drawn and heart pelting a million miles an hour. Sirius couldn’t see in the dark, and he skidded to a stop about fifty metres into the forest, blindly peering around. But Remus could, and he tore past him, towards that hulking shape that was padding menacingly towards them. 

“Lumos!” Sirius yelled behind him, and a bright light shone through the trees, casting detail on that shape...a bear. Huge and snarling and he was running right at it. It leapt for him and he dropped to the ground, flattened himself and Sirius was screaming his name and pop!

“Alright there, Moony?” He looked up, a leaf sticking to his cheek. No bear. Legs clad in Quaffle pyjamas. A calloused hand, offering to help him up. And a shit-eating grin gracing Io’s face. Remus pressed his face into the ground with a groan of relief, his heart still thumping.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, taking her hand and letting her pull him to his feet. She brushed leaves from his shoulder and ruffled his wet hair.

“Nah, but the look on your face was fuckin’ priceless.” He shoved her and she shoved him back, and Sirius caught up to them and pushed her over.

“Y’almost gave Peter a heart attack,” James fussed as he ran up, Peter on his heels. “Did you see us change?” Io nodded and grinned as she got to her feet.

“Poetic really, isn’t it? Dog Black the black dog.” Sirius popped into his dog form and leapt at her, and they both went down with a shriek and a bark. 

—————————————————————————————————————

Monday:  
\- [ ] P1 - Potions  
\- [ ] P2 - Potions  
\- [ ] P3 - Arithmancy  
\- [ ] P4 - Herbology  
\- [ ] P5 - Herbology  
\- [ ] P6 - HoM

19:00 - Art Club  
20:30 - Quidditch Practice

It was Monday morning, and Io was buzzing. Double Potions, then Arithmancy, double Herbology and History of Magic. But it wasn’t the great lessons that had put her in a good mood, it was the fact that she could now, at will, pop into the form of a huge fuck-off bear and go running around the grounds every full moon without a goddamn care in the world. Also maybe because she’d spent breakfast setting up a series of bombs with Peter that, when activated, would burst into a large, stinking swamp across the west fourth floor corridor, and she just couldn’t wait to see the look on Filch’s face. Serve him right for telling on her and getting thirty points taken off Gryffindor when he’d caught her smuggling Elwood into school at the start of term. 

She slid into her seat next to Snape and pulled her books out of her bag. He ignored her, as per usual. Sometimes they grudgingly helped each other, but he mostly kept himself to himself and cast longing looks across the classroom at Lily. Kind of creepy, but whatever. Today, however, she had to ask him something.

“Severus.” Ignored. “Gotta ask you something.” Ignored. “You know Regulus Black?” Ignored. “Is he a Death Eater?”

“How would I know?” Snape replied, barely moving his lips, fixing his black eyes on his open Potions book. Io shrugged. “Ask Pucey.” Io looked across the room at Dillon Pucey and scowled. He was a bully and Lucius Malfoy’s right hand guy. An all round nasty piece of work. But she supposed he would know, so she hopped off her stool and walked up to him. He was doodling dicks on his partner’s book, as she’d gone to the toilet. Io doubted she’d be very pleased when she got back. 

“Oi.” He didn’t look up, but finished adding graphic detail to one drawing, then laid his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“Morrigan,” he said, with a smile. “Good to see you.” Io bit back a swear word and smiled coldly.

“Gotta ask you something,” she said. Pucey raised his thick eyebrows and scratched at a scab on his chin.

“Ask away, doll.” Io fought the urge to gag.

“D’you know if Regulus Black wants to be a Death Eater?” She didn’t know if it was a safe question to ask, but she figured he might give her something, at least. He might not out any Death Eaters, but she was pretty good at reading people. Another smile flickered over his face.

“Why would he?”

“Cause all the wannabes are in Slytherin.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Okay?”

“Wasn’t your mother in Ravenclaw?” That sentence hit her harder than a cauldron to the face. She could feel her cheeks reddening with anger and embarrassment and… uncertainty? She wanted to say something, rebut him, tell him off, hex his face inside out, do something. Do something! She screamed at herself, but she just stood there like an idiot, and he smirked softly and bent back over his drawings. Something red hot and crying clawed to the surface and before she knew what she was doing, her wand was out and blasting and Pucey was lying on the floor, hollering in pain. 

“Take it back,” she snapped, ignoring the sudden pandemonium of the classroom, people scrambling away, yells of confusion, Slughorn rushing to their desk. Pucey groaned and clutched his stomach. With a lurch of terror, Io realised she hadn’t even known what spell she’d cast. “It’s not true,” she snarled. Pucey wheezed.

“You wouldn’t be so angry if it wasn’t,” he gasped. Io raised her wand again in white hot fury, but before she could do anything, two arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her struggling from the classroom. Just before the door closed, Io glimpsed Pucey’s triumphant, pain-twisted face, and then Slughorn crouched down to examine him and he was lost from sight. Lucy Renshaw and Immi Ollerton let go of her as the door slammed closed and she drove a kick into the wall with a strangled yell, then dropped her face into her hands, still clutching her wand. The wood was hot with her anger. Lucy gently wrested Io’s wand from her grip and took her arm.

“Io, we’re going to Pomfrey, okay? Draught of Peace.” Io shook her head vehemently, tears springing to her eyes.

“I don’t need-“

“Yes you do. Immi, come on.” Immi took her other arm and they led her out of the dungeons. Io didn’t even try to resist. “We’re going to the Hospital Wing, you’re taking a Draught of Peace, and then you’re going to let it all out, okay? Calmly,” Lucy said gently. She gave Io her wand back and they emerged into the outside sun. Minnie Trigg, going the other way and late to Potions, looked on with shock and Io turned even more red with embarrassment.

“Min, can you get her bag?” Immi called. “Hospital Wing.” Minnie nodded and walked off.

When they reached the Hospital Wing, it was almost completely empty and Madame Pomfrey made a great fuss.

“Goodness me, dear. Oh, it’s these exams. They put you children under too much pressure, I've been saying it for years,” she said crossly, directing Io to a bed. “Now, Draught of Peace, that’s what you need. And to think the last time you were in here, it was for a cracked skull.” Lucy laughed.

“That’s right, when you got thrashed by Slytherin at the last match of the term. My finest moment.”

“Mean Bludger,” Io conceded shakily, wiping tears off her face and taking the glass of lilac Draught of Peace from Madame Pomfrey. She drank it all down, and almost immediately, her heart beat slower and her quick, shallow breaths evened out. It tasted like that Australian Muggle tropical fruit juice Tilly had brought to school for them all to try. It tasted like the honey Mary had, and insisted on putting on her toast, instead of the one the house elves provided for the table. It tasted like cool air and happiness.

“Alright?” Madame Pomfrey asked, and Io nodded. “Well you girls just stay here for a little bit, alright? Take a little break.” And with that, she bustled off with the empty glass. Immi sat down on the bed next to Io with a sigh, and Lucy sat on her other side. They were two of her oldest friends, Lucy having lived in the same town as Io before she moved, and Io and Immi having met on the Hogwarts Express.

"You wanna tell us?" Immi asked. So Io did. All of it. Daisy. Mum and Dad. Death Eaters. Dirty blood. Threats. Failure. Beatings. Curly. Jane. All. Of. It.

—————————————————————————————————————

Io came back into Potions about forty minutes before it ended, whereupon Slughorn promptly gave her detention and Snape simply slid his notes across to her for copying. Pucey was nowhere to be seen. The lesson was on the Draught of Peace. Ironic, thought Io, as she carefully copied down the recipe and ingredients and Slughorn droned on at the front. Something light hit her in the back of the head, and Io turned to see Sirius and James, trying to catch her attention from their table.

" _What?_ " she mouthed irritably.

" _Are you good?_ " Sirius stage-whispered back.

"No," she hissed, then turned back to her notes. A ball of paper landed on her desk and she set down her quill and opened it with a sigh. It was a moving caricature of Sirius wiggling his eyebrows. Io pushed down a laugh, stuffed the paper into her Potions book and carried on with her notes.

_...making a mistake can have drastic consequences. Adding too much of the ingredients, for example, will put the drinker of the potion into a deep and possibly irreversible…_

“Iona! Iona!” Sirius hissed from behind her. She ignored him. On the desk next to her, bloody Carlotta Pearse listened in.

_...Allow to simmer until the potion turns pink.  
Add syrup of hellebore until the potion turns turquoise.  
Allow to simmer until the potion turns purple.  
Shake powdered porcupine quills vigorously until they are ready and then add until the potion turns red.  
Stir until the potion turns orange.  
Add more porcupine quills until the potion turns turquoise..._

It probably should have been a practical lesson today, it being a double lesson and all, but Io supposed after her outburst at Pucey, Slugnhorn’s feeble heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more messes.

_...the Draught of Peace relieves anxiety and emits a light silver vapour..._

“Hey, Pearse. What about that Hogsmeade trip?” Sirius whispered. Carlotta swung round to bat her long eyelashes at him. Io rolled her eyes. Maybe that month without snogging someone meant Sirius was trying to make up lost time. Honestly, he should just get with Remus already.

“Only if you’re paying for coffee, Black,” Carlotta said sweetly.

“The gentleman in me would never decline, darling,” Sirius drawled. Io could hear James pretending to throw up, then Sirius whacking him with his collapsible cauldron. Ew. “Just because you’re too busy drooling over Lily doesn’t mean you get to be jealous,” said Sirius a little too loudly. Lily, seated next to Clementine at the front, stiffened. Slughorn turned away from the board with a look like a disapproving walrus.

“Quiet down, please, Master Potter,” he instructed. James spluttered indignantly and Sirius sniggered beside him. Io grabbed a spare bit of parchment, fashioned it into a paper aeroplane, turned and flung it full force at Sirius’s face. It hit him on the nose and he wailed, prompting Slughorn to turn around again. “Master Potter! Detention!” Sirius’s wail turned into a giggle and Io turned just far enough to give a scowling James a big grin. 

—————————————————————————————————————

Double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs in the warm greenhouses. Glorious. It was Fanged Geraniums this lesson, but before they could start, Sprout insisted on giving them the age-old O.W.L. year lecture about work and revision, and Io started to feel sleepy. Then she remembered her detention and Arule’s conversation in the concealed corridor a month ago and Pucey’s snide remark, and she didn’t feel so sleepy anymore.

Something hit her on the back of the head and she turned. Lily, with a sigh, grabbed her arm and swung her back around.

"Please, please don't get another detention," she whispered as Sprout jollied on.

"I'm not. Who was it?"

"Potter," said Lily disdainfully. Io leant back and looked down the table. James and Sirius were pulling horrendous faces at her, and Remus was watching Sirius with a strange sort of half grin on his face. Stealthily, Io pulled her wand from her pocket, and shot a silent Jelly-Legs Jinx in James's direction. He realised, his face a comical mask, and threw himself forwards onto the table just in time. The spell shot past him and hit Benjy Lockley in the arse, and the Fanged Geraniums on the table James had crashed into snapped wildly. Benjy crashed to the floor, wiggling, and James gave a high-pitched scream as the Geraniums descended on him, teeth gnashing. Sprout looked down the table in horror, and Io hurriedly hid her wand away.

"What is going on! Mr Potter! Off the table! Ten points from Gryffindor!" Beside her, Lily groaned, but when Io looked over, there was a small smile on her face that seemed to hide a laugh. Sprout drew her wand and there was a bang and a flash of light, and Benjy was groaning on the floor, perfectly still, and the Geraniums were huddled together in their pots, away from a panting, terrified James. Sprout looked positively enraged, the opposite of her normally jolly demeanour. Sirius was laughing into Remus's shoulder, the latter of who looked quite red and pleased. "Detention, Mr Black," Sprout puffed. "This is not a time for messing around. These exams will decide your life choices! Settle down, everyone!" The class fell silent, shocked into obedience by Sprout's uncharacteristic anger. Io leaned back and shot Sirius a wink. It looked like they'd all be in detention together, then.

—————————————————————————————————————

After a particularly dry History of Magic lesson, with Sirius kicking the table next to her, spilling Remus's ink and making Hogsmeade plans with a delirious Carlotta Pearse, Io was quite ready for a break from the boys. So she sat with Zel (a Hufflepuff Beater) and Dirk and Tom Denvers (one of the Hufflepuff chasers) at the Hufflepuff table at supper, where they talked about Quidditch and secret passages and Benjy's face in Herbology that afternoon while Perring Unctus shot her filthy looks from the other end of the table. Io tried not to think about anything else. Ignorance is bliss, after all, she thought without certainty. 

"Okay, so I was ready, right?" Tom was saying, mimicking having a hand up to catch the Quaffle. "And the idiot sees me, brakes, takes about twenty minutes to figure out what he's doing, and gets knocked off his broom by a fuckin' Bludger." Zel laughed.

"Yeah, we've all been there."

"Io!" Io swung around to see Marlene speedwalking the length of the Great Hall, a painting apron slung over her arm. She reached the table, panting, and waved a hand erratically.

"What's up?" Io asked.

"Your detention's at seven, Lily told me to tell you," she puffed, rearranging her apron, which was slipping off her arm. Io frowned.

"But I'll miss-"

"Art club, I know."

"Shit! Sorry, Marl," Io tried. Marlene just shrugged and fiddled with the string on her apron absent-mindedly.

"Nah, it's fine. I got Hestia, Minnie, Immi. I'll be good. Lily also said, McGee just told her, you're cleaning with Filch, you and James. I gotta go, but I asked if you're still on for Quidditch, and she said yeah."

"Aw, life-saver, babe. Sorry again," Io said guiltily. Marlene waved an overly unconcerned hand. Io knew she didn't get along that well with Minnie.

"It's fine. But really, I've gotta go. See ya!" And she rushed off. Zel made a face from across the table.

"How'd you get detention?"

"I fixed Pucey up with a new make up set," Io said darkly, watching Marlene run off, feeling worse than ever. Marlene loved Art club, and had been ecstatic about being made President, but usually only if Io was there, for some reason. Io thought it might be because Marlene could get anxious a lot, but she wasn't really sure. Zel and Dirk both looked over at the Slytherin table and laughed, where Pucey was scowling at his plate with a blue, powdery tinge to his face.

"Beautiful spellwork," Dirk said with a chuckle. "By the way, is it true that you're getting it on with Deion Vaughn?" Zel's eyes widened to the size of Galleons.

"Iona!"

"No!" Io yelled, a little too loudly. "It has literally been an entire month since the last time I talked to him! Why is that still a thing?" Dirk grinned. 

"You'd make a cute couple."

"Keep your nose out of it, Cresswell," Io growled.

"Yeah, but you weren't talking to anyone in that month," said Zel slyly. Io tried to look innocent, but she had a feeling Zel somehow knew. Her and Minnie knew everything about everyone, and although they were in different houses, they were always conversing in corridors, swapping what Io could only assume were school secrets. They'd been the first to know about the affair between the Theory teacher and Pince's assistant last year.

"If you mean my feminist movement, including a vow of silence, then yes," Io said airily, setting her cutlery down. "If you'll excuse me, I have a detention to get to." Zel shook her head in disbelief and went back to her pudding as Io walked out, her heart beating just a little too fast. Zel wouldn't tell anyone, but it was bad enough if she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments, please!! I live for your thoughts, criticism or otherwise :))
> 
> Edit: aghhhh fuck I'm a dumb bitch lmao  
> 1\. So somehow the first and second chapters switched, so I'll fix that in just a sec  
> 2\. I forgot that Lily was a prefect!!! Urghhhhh what amma gonna doooo  
> 3\. I might just have to rewrite a shit ton of stuff so bear with if it all gets super confusing ok??
> 
> Edit No.2 : re - write ahead! Not too much stuff but things will change. Unfortunately there'll probably be less Marlene :(( which is a shame cuz I love her
> 
> Edit No.3 : it is donnnnnne!


	12. A Girl's First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io doesn't have to look for trouble anymore. It's started coming to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long I'm slow on the series stories. Alps this chapter is kinda filler and annoying but it helps?? anyways let me know if you liked or didn't, every comment helps (mostly :))

She left the Great Hall with her bag and turned left towards the Grand Staircase, still ruminating on leaving Marlene behind. Detentions always had to be at the worst time. Fast footsteps slapped the floor behind her, and as she looked around, James pranced up on her left with a wild grin.

“What are you smirking at?” She snapped irritably.

“Wormtail set off the swamp,” he hissed under his breath, eyes large and glittering behind his glasses.

“Wormtail?” Io repeated, utterly confused. James nodded, a little out of breath.

“Pete. We named each other after you-know-what.” It took Io a second. Then-

“God, you’re a bunch of nerds. How’d it go? And what’s Sirius’s name? I can’t wait to rib him about it.”

“It’s permanent, so far. Filch is pissed. And Sirius’s name is Padfoot!”

“Padfoot? Honestly?”

“Yup. I’m Prongs.”

“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs,” Io recited. “Yuck. No wonder Lily doesn’t wanna fuck you.” James frowned.

“Actually, speaking of…”

“What did you do?” Io asked wearily.

“She knows who made the swamp, ‘cause I asked her out,-“

“-for the eighty-first time-“

“-may have mentioned being a genius, and she caught on and yelled at me the length of Scotland for being immature.” Io sighed as they walked the corridor leading to Filch’s office.

“Idiot.” Someone cackled up ahead and Io stopped in her tracks. The corridor was empty. “Is that Peeves?” She asked. James grinned again.

“I thought he might make our detention more interesting.” 

“And he listened to you?” Io asked, her voice breaking a little high as she drew her wand. James shrugged. 

“More or less.” Io punched his shoulder and he made a wounded face. “Ow!”

“Peeves doesn’t deal in more or less,” Io hissed. “You’re gonna get us a month of cleaning trophies!”

“Chill,” James snapped back, just as Filch stepped out of his office. He scowled when he saw them, and Io hurriedly put her wand away. Peeves slipped out of invisibility and made a grotesque face at Filch’s back, and James valiantly hid his amusement. Filch prowled up to them and Io tried to look innocently angelic, something she’d always had trouble with. 

“Evening, Mr Filch,” James chirped. Filch pursed his lips and surveyed them, already seemingly enraged, and with good reason: his boots and the hem of his ragged robes were covered in green swamp goo.

“Shut up, boy,” he snapped, immediately. “Your friend Black is cleaning up the swamp all by ‘imself, so you’d better not say anything that makes me want to switch your places.” Neither of them spoke, and Filch looked marginally more pleased. “You’re cleaning the trophies,” he said, glee crossing his face momentarily. James wilted next to Io.

“Why?” Io blurted. “Kennedy said he cleaned ‘em last week, how dirty could they’ve got?” Filch squinted at her and drew himself up to his stooped, unimpressive height.

“Some idiot set a pack of owls in there this afternoon,” he spat. “And it surely won’t be me cleaning up after ‘em. Now, chop chop, before I change my mind and have you strung by your noses in the Forest instead.” He clapped his crooked hands and reluctantly, Io and James turned to leave for the trophy room, Peeves bobbing along behind them.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius turned up at the swamp for his detention ten minutes late, having disentangled himself from Carlotta at the beginning of dinner and barely escaped her clutches when leaving dinner. Remus and James had been somewhere else, and Peter was early to Art Club, so Sirius had sat alone at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the stares he was getting from a white-faced Regulus from across the hall, the sly glances Lucius Malfoy kept shooting him and the giggling of Carlotta’s friends. He was starting to regret this date. Sure, she was hot and she’d probably be willing to get it on after the first date, but she was SO annoying. He tried to think of reasons why he'd asked her out in the first place, and came up with her arse and her hair. They both had great hair. Satisfied, Sirius kept walking.

He turned the corner on the fourth floor West corridor and grinned. Io and Peter really had outdone themselves. The entire corridor was filled, wall to wall and end to end, with stinking, lapping green swampy goo. 

"Sirius." Sirius swivelled almost comically, stepped back into the shore of the goo, and slipped and fell on his arse. Remus, who'd come up behind him, grinned and offered him a hand. "I hope you brought a broom," he said, pulling Sirius to his feet. Sirius made a face at the swamp.

"I'm not seriously the only one doing this, am I?" He groaned, pulling out his wand. Remus just crossed to the wall, pulled out his book, and sank to the floor.

"Maybe get someone else to do your evil bidding next time," he offered, turning to the right page, and Sirius stuck his tongue out at Remus's bent head.

"This was your idea," he scoffed, moving his wand in short little lines. "Tergeo." About a square inch of swamp cleared, and Sirius looked out at the corridor with trepidation.

"This was not my idea. I actually remember telling you how you could do it without getting caught and put in detention to clean it up, but none of you listened, hm?"

"Wise, wise Moony," Sirius grumped, trying _Tergeo_ again.

"That's me," Remus replied distantly, already distracted by his book.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The trophies, in fact, were extremely dirty. Io and James stood in the doorway and glared miserably at the mess: owl shit and feathers and scrapes. 

"We're gonna be here all night," James groaned, as Filch slumped away with a quiet cackle. Io checked that he was well off down the corridor, then pulled her wand.

"Nope. Not on your life, Potter. You know we'll get beheaded if we're late to Quidditch, so let's speed this up, yeah?" James grinned at her, eyes shining from behind his glasses, and pulled his own wand.

"Alrighty then. Ladies first."

"I insist," Io replied, sweeping a mocking, low bow.

"No, no, after you," James said, putting on a posh accent not too dissimilar to his normal one.

"Well, if you're sure," Io said, moving to the middle of the room and pulling up her sleeves. She moved her arm in a huge, smooth letter 's' in the air, and said, "Scourgify!" Instantly, half the mess vanished, leaving them with just the claw scratches on the glass cabinets on one side of the room. James looked doubtfully at his side, and raised his wand. He wasn't as good at Charms as Transfiguration, and his 's' was wonky, but he managed to move most of the dirt. He put his hands on his hips and hummed disapprovingly for a second.

"I didn't do it right," he said after a second. Io snorted. 

"No, you bloody didn't." She went over his spell, then walked to the nearest cabinet to inspect the scratches. "God, how do we fix this? Reparo?" James gave the barest facsimile of a shrug, leaning against the closest cabinet and puffing a stray lock of hair off his forehead. Io cast him an amused look. Every inch the unruffled rule-breaker, even when there was no one to see it. No one who mattered, anyway. Io had always been able to see under James's skin. Maybe not as well as the boys, but she knew him.

"Give it a try," he said. She did, and the scratches glittered, but didn't fade and she harrumphed and crossed her arms. She could practically hear James rolling his eyes from behind her. "Scabere Reparo," he offered. She glared at the cabinet, but tried it anyway, and the scratch vanished like a stitched up wound. 

"Great," she said sourly, staring around at the scarred cabinets. "Just another thousand to go."

"Oh, come on," James teased. "Are you telling me the great Iona Morrigan-Brewsam can't mass produce a spell?" Io stiffened, and the air around her spine seemed to turn into a thousand and one thorns, prickling her skin. She knew James was winding her up, but he had a tendency to go too far.

"Why don't you do some work for once in your life?" She snapped, but he just laughed and spread his hands, then reached for his wand.

"Whatever. Scabere Reparo." There was an unholy sound, like the scraping of giant metal teeth on a metal fork, and Io clapped her hands over her ears. It grinded on, like unoiled gears, and James cringed and dropped his wand, stuffing his fingers in his ears. However, all around them, the claw scratches were disappearing, protesting and wailing, but fading. When the sound died down, Io pulled her hands away from her ears and punched him in the shoulder, still shivering from the cacophony. James jerked away and her fist met nothing but air, and although he looked shaken, he just grinned at her. "Worked, didn't it?"

"You-" Io started, but she couldn't find the words. Her ears were still ringing. "- _twat_. I'm going to kill you." James raised his eyebrows and checked his birthday wristwatch. 

"Would you look at that. We've got ten minutes to get our brooms and get down to the pitch before Gwenog hangs, dries and quarters us."

"It's hang, _draw_ and quarter," Io snapped, still glaring at him. James's grin widened. 

"I think you're missing a thank-you."

"Like hell," Io snarled, and she scrabbled for her wand and made for the door. 

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Moony, _please_."

"Not a chance. You brought this on yourself." 

" _Please,_ Moony," Sirius whined. Remus didn't even lift his head.

"I'm immune to your puppy eyes, remember?" Sirius scowled and dropped the wide-eyed expression. It always worked on Peter and Io. He turned back to the swamp and raised his wand again, wondering if a different spell would get him further.

"Evanesco!" The swamp didn't change, it just gulped tauntingly at him, and a bubble popped about a foot in, releasing a waf of stinking air. Sirius pinched his nose.

"Idiot!" Remus jumped to his feet, and Sirius spun around, noting the horror-struck look on Remus's face and his empty hands in the same second.

"What?"

"My book, you rat bastard!"

"What about your damn book?"

"You fucking vanished it!" He'd never seen Remus quite so incensed; eyes enraged, thin knuckles white and clenched, hair fluffing over his eyebrows like some sort of dream. Sirius blinked.

"Your-"

"Get it back!"

"Alright, don't get your bikini in a twist," Sirius muttered. "What's so special about it anyway?"

"It was my mum's!" Remus said, panic edging his voice into hysteria. Sirius winced.

"I'm sorry, Moony, it was an accident-"

"Just get it back," Remus replied snappily, seemingly calming down. He glared at Sirius until Sirius raised his wand and called it back, and the battered book dropped to the floor between them. Remus swooped and snatched it up with unnerving grace, then folded himself back against the wall and continued to read.

"Moony, I'm sorry," Sirius said helplessly, feeling like a twenty pound weight had been dropped on his chest.

"Stick to charming people, not my things, why don't you?" Remus muttered.

"I'm terrible at Transfiguration, mate," Sirius offered. Remus just folded a little further and dipped his head, and Sirius decided to take a different tack. "So you admit I'm charming?" He teased, wandering past Remus and fluffing up his hair. Remus ignored him, and Sirius bounced into a crouch before his friend, head tilted. "Come on, Moony."

"Fuck off," Remus mumbled, but his face wasn't tight with anxiety anymore, and Sirius counted that as a win.

"Fucking off," he said with an extravagant bow. "Love you, Moony." Remus flushed, and Sirius stared at him. The ten pound weight seemed to turn to melted syrup, sticky and hot and cloaking his airways. Remus? Flushing? Never. Sirius shook it off and turned back to the swamp, but before he could raise his wand, Remus slapped his book down and started to speak.

"Sirius, you know Io asked Pucey about your brother…" Sirius cleared his throat and raised his wand, blinking away the image of Regulus's white, drawn face from dinner. "If he's in trouble, we should look out for him."

"Whaddaya think I've been trying to do for two years?" Sirius grumbled, trying to keep the edge from his voice.

"I meant we should investigate," Remus carried on, carefully. "Along with looking for whoever got Curly to try and kill Jane. If he's fallen in with the wrong crowd…"

"You want to interrogate my brother to find out if he's a Death Eater or not," Sirius said, scowling at the swamp. He wasn't sure he could look at Remus right now, not with the way his vision was blurring with water.

"No." The word is so flat and strong, Sirius might almost believe him. "I think we should poke around and save two birds with one net."

"You know I love your made-up sayings," Sirius said, blinking fast to clear his vision and rearrange his facial expression. He wanted to hide the relief Remus was giving him. Relief from being alone his whole life, carrying his and his brother's safety on his shoulders and in his bruises, relief from taking every hit in the hope that Regulus would follow him. Relief from being let down by the one kid he'd always loved, protected, stuck his neck out for. Sirius turned around with his trademark cover-up smirk, and stuck his hands in his pockets. "When do we start?" 

†††††††††††††††††††††

Hanging, drawing and quartering would be preferable to being the recipient of a Gwenog Jones death glare, Io thought. It was like having ice poured down your spine, while being grinned at by Satan. 

"Where the fuck have you been?" She growled, as Io and James ran into the pitch, robes askew and brooms bobbing along behind them.

"Detention," James panted. Io tried to catch her breath. They'd run from the trophy room to Gryffindor tower, then all the way down to the pitch, and it was a hell of a journey.

"Go and warm up," Gwenog snapped. Io groaned.

"Come on, Jones. We just ran all the way from…" Gwenog's stare had Io faltering, throwing down her broom and sprinting after the rest of the team, who were doing burpees in a circle around the centre of the pitch. James ran after her, sniggering under his breath. "What?" Io snapped.

"Gwenog Jones is the only thing on earth that can get Io Brewsam running for her life," he huffed, drawing ahead of her. Io moved her legs a little faster and ignored him. They arrived at the circle and James slapped Caine Leeroy's shoulder as a form of greeting, and Ellie Spinnet, a sixth year beater leading the exercise, glared at him. He took his place in the circle quickly, and Io stepped into the space next to him.

"Everyone, ten press-ups. Let's go."

"You're pissed at me," James whined as they both went down to do their press-ups. Io grunted. Down, up, down, up, down, up. Gwenog had had them on a cruel strengthening program since the beginning of the year, and Io was proud to say she could do proper press-ups now. "I'm sorry, for whatever," he panted, starting to go faster than Io. She tried to speed up, but her arms were burning.

"You're a dick."

"I'm better at press-ups."

"Male advantage. You don't have two chest weights to carry." James wrinkled his nose.

"Chill out with that talk, alright?" Io laughed into the grass as she lowered herself down.

"Hell, you are not ready for periods. Or the birds and bees."

"Don't be gross."

"Don't be fucking immature. No wonder Lily hates you so much, you're so token."

"Don't know what that means."

"It means learn to deal with the shit girls go through," she said. Then she reached over and shoved James onto his side, causing a pile-up as James fell onto Caine and the movement continued around the circle like dominoes. 

"Brewsam, two laps of the field! This is not a time for fucking around! Our first match is in January!" called Gwenog from over by the ball box. Io groaned. "Go!" Gwenog screamed, and she staggered to her feet and started running.

When they finally got in the air, Gwenog seemed determined to knock her Chasers out of it. She set the Keeper, Andrew Fleming, up in goal with Tilly, the reserve, and Blythe Parkin the Seeker, as defenders, and the three Chasers as attackers. Then she positioned herself and Ellie with their bats on either side of the pitch, and the two Beaters seemed to have a lot of fun whacking the Bludgers across the field and into the Chasers.

As the formation broke for the eighth time, courtesy of Caine taking a Bludger to the stomach and spiralling out of the sky, Io raised her hand for a time out. Gwenog responded by thumping the other Bludger right at Io's face, and she gripped her broom handle and rolled in the air, feeling the Bludger zip past her toes. She righted herself and glared in Gwenog's general direction. Exhaustion and frustration and built up anxiety scattered her inhibitions.

"Are you crazy?" she screamed. James waved a hand in her peripheral vision and she turned her scathing glare on him.

"Bad idea," he said, tossing her the Quaffle. "Come on, we need a goal, it's getting dark." She caught it with one hand, pushing down the need to unload all her anger. James saw through her and squinted, leaning over his broom handle. "Use it. Let's go." And he zoomed off to draw Tilly away, leaving Io to face down Blythe, the prodigy seventh year Seeker who'd not failed to catch Gryffindor the Snitch in all her matches at Hogwarts. 

Io tucked the Quaffle under her arm and blew out a long breath. Blythe looked positively bored, hanging back, legs dangling, running her fingers over her cornrows. Io readied herself, then shot forwards like a bullet from a gun. Blythe dived to the side to intercept her and Io rolled away from Blythe's hand, now flying upside-down towards Andrew's goal. Blythe kept on Io's tail, edging forward, and Io pushed her broom to go faster. It was peaking at top speed now, and if she didn't want to crash, she needed to slow down. The wind slashed her cheeks raw, whipped her ponytail into a frenzy. But if she didn't want to lose the Quaffle to Blythe, she needed to speed up. Compromise. 

She dipped, braked so sharply her broom almost threw her off, dived to the side to avoid Blythe crashing into her, and sped over the goal line fifty feet below. Andrew hovered, gloved hands wide and ready, and she got in close, feinted to the right, then dived left and chucked the Quaffle through the middle hoop so hard it soared over the stands. 

James, still weaving into Tilly's path, whooped, and Caine, on the ground, pumped his fist mutely. Io pulled up short to avoid crashing into the posts, and Andrew flew up to her, holding up a hand. She high-fived him.

"Nice goal," he said, and then he looked over her shoulder and yanked his handle to the side, eyes wide and terrified. Io glanced behind and Ellie's Bludger hit her broom tail, throwing her through the air. She felt her legs lift off the wood of her broom and terror and vertigo forced her heart to her mouth. Time dilated, and all events seemed to happen at a tenth of their normal time: the Bludger bounced away, her broom spiralled slowly downwards, Io hit the metal goalpost and crumpled against it, started to fall, like a feather in a breeze. She watched her Quidditch robes stream above her head as she fell, dazedly, a torn parachute of red and gold. 

"Arresto Momentum!" someone yelled from far away, and she drifted, fell through a vat of honey, streams of cold wind whipping her hair up like string. The ground was cold and hard, and the spell let her down gently, but as soon as she touched down, pain flared in her shoulder and her ribs and she gasped, the wind rushing out of her like she'd been slammed to the floor. She coughed and rolled onto her front and wheezed, coughed some more. Her broom, blurry and spotty, wiggled in her vision a few feet away, and there was a succession of thumps, then running feet, distant shouting voices.

"-could have fucking killed her! This is practice, not Creaothceann!"

"It was an accident, Caine!"

"Accident my arse, you're one of the best Beaters in Hogwarts!"

"I swear, I was aiming for just past her!" Io put a hand on the ground and a knee beneath her chest, pushed herself up, got a shaking foot underneath herself. Stumbled to her feet. 

"Io, lay down, okay? Practice is over."

"Practice isn't fucking over, Potter."

"Shut the hell up, Jones! You try walking away from a Bludger and a fifty foot fall."

"Don't talk to your Captain like that."

"Io," James said, grabbing her arm. She reached for his shoulder to steady herself and shook her head. 

"I'm okay. I'm-" she stumbled, cutting herself off, and her knees buckled. Caine and Tilly took an arm each and hoisted her up again. She knew her eyes were dazedly half closed. She must look high.

"Hey, babe, just chill, okay?" Tilly said in her ear. "Siddown. Come on." Io shook her head. 

"Where's my broom?"

"We're taking you back to the tower," Caine said, pulling Io's arm around his shoulders. He was at least six inches taller than her, and so her left side lifted off the ground dramatically.

"You're not all going," Gwenog snapped, somewhere to Io's right. Ellie pushed to the front and looked worriedly into Io's face.

"Io, my God, I'm so sorry, are you-"

"Give Ravenclaw a hit like that an' I'll do your homework for a year," Io slurred. Ellie's face cleared a little and Gwenog shoved her away. 

"Alright, Brewsam?" She asked roughly, squinting through the dusk. Io nodded.

"Where's my broom? I can fly…" Gwenog snorted like a bull.

"No you bloody can't. Go back to the tower. And don't get hit again, hm?"

"Yessir," Io mumbled, disentangling herself from Caine and Tilly. "I can walk on my own."

"Potter, go with her so she doesn't fall down the stairs," said Gwenog crisply. Io blinked to try and restore her vision and James grabbed her elbow and turned her in the direction of the castle, picking up Io's broom as they went.

It was a slow, painful walk back to the tower, but Io knew James was babying her more than necessary. She could walk up stairs. She slapped his arm away from her waist when they got to the Grand Staircase and gestured in the vague direction of the pitch.

"Go back and practice," she said. "I can do stairs." He squinted at her.

"Practice'll be over."

"Nah. Gwenog's gonna run you guys into the ground, she's not gonna call a halt just cause no one can see anymore." She could tell James was itching to go back and fly, and all her irritation had been knocked out of her when she'd hit the goalpost. "Go on. I'll be fine." She took her broom from him and pushed him away, and he nodded and gave her one of those smiles she never really saw anymore. Small and genuine. First year James.

"Alright. Be careful. See you." And he jogged off, boots echoing as he passed the Great Hall, broom over his shoulder. Io watched him go, then looked down at her poor broom's tail: bent and twisted, twigs sticking out at odd angles. She sighed and started up the staircase.

She'd gotten quite far, using her broom as a crutch, when she paused on a landing and leant against the wall to rest her aching ribs. They weren't broken, she knew that, because she'd broken her ribs before and it had hurt like hell. She leaned her head against the cool wall and sighed. And that was when she heard the crying. Hiccuping. Begging. Sobbing. Coming from the corridor leading off to her left. She pushed herself off the wall, her dirty robes leaving a muddy imprint she was sure would give Filch an aneurysm, and tucked the broom handle under her arm again, then took a step down the corridor. Some scared first year? 

"Hello?" she called warily, taking another step. The crying stopped, turning to loud, wet breathing. "You okay?" She rounded the corner and there sat Edith Li, the exchange student from Hong Kong's small magic institution. Wide eyed and shivering. But completely blank-faced. "Edith?" 

Io rushed to her side, abandoning her broom with a clatter. Edith stared right through her for a second, shivering and grey. Then her vision seemed to clear and she blinked a few times, light brown eyes as wide as plates in the dim light of the corridor. She was clutching her right forearm with the other hand, and when her sight settled on Io, she gasped in terror and scrambled on the floor, trying to right herself, trying to get away. Io recognised that mad, fearful, wild look. She'd seen it time and again in Sirius's face when he'd woken from a fitful sleep on a library table, seen someone looming over him, and not known where he was, whether he was safe. Io retreated quickly to a safe distance and extended her arm, a straight bar, not an outstretched hand or fist.

"It's Io Brewsam. I'm in Gryffindor. You know me, I'm not gonna hurt you, am I? Edith, just take a second, okay?"

"What did you do to me?" Edith asked breathlessly, glancing down to the arm she was clutching. "Oh-"

"Are you bleeding?" Io said incredulously. "What happened? Did someone attack you?" Edith's breathing got shorter and faster, as she stared behind Io's shoulder at the opposite wall of the corridor. Io dug her short fingernails into the seams of her Quidditch robes' left arm and ripped them, slicing the sleeve off and picking the threads away. She grabbed Edith's bleeding arm, now that she'd calmed down, and wrapped the sleeve around the cut like a bandage, but it was deep and streaming, and the sleeve started to darken and stain. "Okay, we'll go to Madame Pomfrey, Edith. Can you walk?" There was blood all down Edith's school shirt, on her neck as well, slick on her hands like finger paint. Io felt her face twist, sick with worry. This didn't look like self harm.

"Did you-" Edith stuttered, and Io looked over her shoulder, at where Edith was staring, wide-eyed. And her heart seemed to stop in her chest. The corridor seemed to shrink.

_MUDBLOODS, TRAITORS_

_YOU DON'T BELONG HERE_

_WE'RE COMING FOR YOU_

A blood message. A threat. A promise.

Someone, somewhere, started to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned
> 
> (I've finally got a plan for this storyline lol it can only get better from here on out chin up lads)


	13. Veiled Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io's being chased down and run into the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Whaaaaat??

Io turned back from the horror wall, and Edith was squealing and thrashing behind her, eyes screwed shut and her head turned away from the blood writing.

"Edith, it's okay! I won't hurt you, okay? M-madame Pomfrey-" Edith screamed louder and the red writing inched into Io's vision. She bent her head away and tried to breathe properly, but her heart was beating too fast and Edith was screaming and every muscle in Io's body was trembling with the flee response. 

And then silence. Edith had stopped screaming. Io looked over at her and she was slumped against the wall, grey-faced, eyes fluttering closed.

"Edith?" Edith blinked, eyelids slow and heavy, and seemed to find Io's face. "Edith, you're bleeding…"

"What…"

"Do you remember what happened?" Io asked desperately. Edith focused on the writing and her face twisted in horror, and then she raised a sticky, bloody hand in front of her face.

"Did I do that?" she whispered, and Io grabbed her uninjured arm.

"Okay, it doesn't matter. Hospital Wing."

"What happened?" Edith mumbled, grasping at Io's shoulder to steady herself. Her pupils were dilating rapidly, and she was breathing shallow.

"Your guess is as good as mine," offered Io, taking Edith's hand and trying to pull her to her feet. But she was a dead weight, and she couldn't get her feet under her, and her bloodied hand just slid over Io's. "Come on, we gotta go," Io grunted, taking a hold of her wrist.

"No, I can't," Edith breathed, shakily. "I can't, I cannot move."

"Edith, please, it's really deep-"

"What the hell is going on?" Io dropped Edith's arm and swivelled, flinching at the pain in her ribs and almost toppling over. Neat, ironed robes, a crisp Slytherin tie. A Head Girl badge and a brilliant head of black, curly hair. Dorcas Meadowes glared down in horror at the two girls huddled against the wall. "Li, are you bleeding? Brewsam, why isn't she in the Hospital Wing?" Io felt her eyes sting with relief and she wiped them with the back of a bloodied hand, but then Dorcas's eyes fell on the wall and she took three steps back in disbelief and shock, sudden acres of white around her dark irises. "Jesus Christ on a tightrope," she breathed. "Brewsam, what is this?"

"I don't know," Io cried shakily. "I found Edith here, I think someone put a Memory Charm on her, she can't get up-"

"Go to Professor Dumbledore's office right now," Dorcas said sharply, drawing her wand. "Vaughn!" she called over her shoulder. 

"I didn't do it!" Io said helplessly, trying to blink back tears. "I swear, I got sent back from Quidditch-" 

"Go, Brewsam! I don't want another word out of you. Vaughn!" Skidding footsteps, and Deion came running around the corner, tie askew, robes flapping. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the words on the wall, Edith shivering on the floor, and Io almost in tears, covered in mud. "Vaughn, take Brewsam to the Headmaster and if you see any other Prefects, tell them we've got a bad situation. All rendezvous in the Great Hall in ten minutes, alright?" Deion nodded and took a tentative step towards Io, who stood immediately. A sharp pain spread from her ribs to her head and she blinked it all away.

"Dorcas, I didn't do anything-"

"I said not another word," Dorcas said, voice like ice and a glare like needles. "Go. I'll inform Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn myself."

Deion drew his own wand and tipped his head towards the Grand Staircase, and Io miserably began to follow his directions. 

They climbed the stairs in utter silence, in which Deion kept his wand trained on her back and Io ruminated on what they might tell her parents. On if she'd be suspended. If anyone might never trust that she wasn't a Death Eater again. She thought about Darwin, her proud half-blood cousin who'd gotten suspended once, for fighting four racist, pure blood seventh years with his fists. She'd always hoped to be like him.

They reached the gargoyles and Deion stepped a little closer to Io as they craned their necks down to look at them.

"Professor Dumbledore has left his office," one said. "He was notified of the events and we can't be sure when he'll be back."

" _If_ he'll be back," the other added with satisfaction. "Drama, much?"

"Aren't you helpful," Deion said irritably. "Cockroach Clusters." The first gargoyle made a growling sound, but the stairs descended anyway and Deion prodded Io towards them.

"I can walk on my own," she snapped, slapping his hand away. He took a reactive step back and her stomach plunged like a stone through water. She shouldn't antagonise him. For all he knew, she'd just cut a girl open and denounced Muggle-borns on one of the castle walls, in blood. She stepped onto the staircase and he followed. It rose with a horrible granite scrape, and Io had involuntary déjà vu from the last horrid event she'd been mixed up in. Why did it have to be her?

Deion wrenched the handle of the door to one side and Io went in, suddenly very conscious of how muddy her boots were on Dumbledore's plush carpet. He closed the door behind them and leaned on the wall beside it, arms crossed, wand still clenched in his fist. A sentry. She felt the sudden urge to defend herself to him, make _someone_ believe she had nothing to do with any of this. But she shut her mouth and kept it shut, and they stood in silence as the last vestiges of the winter sunset stained Dumbledore's office a rich, greyish orange.

The door was flung open almost a full half hour later by Dumbledore himself, followed close on his heels by Professor McGonagall, her bottle-green robes swirling like hurried peacock tails around her ankles. Neither of them spared a glance to Deion and Io as they came in, but when Dumbledore situated himself behind his desk and leaned his long arms on the polished wood, he did finally turn an icy gaze on Io.

"Miss Brewsam," he greeted, somewhat coolly. 

"Professor."

"Please, explain. Spare us no detail." He was harried as Io had never seen him before: shaken. So she explained. Walking back from Quidditch, telling James to leave, hearing Edith and finding her bleeding. Then seeing the message on the wall. And she spared no detail. All throughout it, Deion stood behind her, still as marble, and McGonagall in front, thin and tall and worried. Dumbledore just watched Io speak with his hands clasped in front of him on the desk, expression unchanged, like a blank sheet of paper. Until she finished talking, and he leaned back in his ancient carved chair with a creak and a rustle of his beard.

"You suspect a Memory Charm?"

"Yes, sir." Silence. It made Io antsy. She resisted tapping her foot.

"Miss Brewsam, Professor McGonagall insists that there is no reason to suspect you for this incident. However, the board of governors of this school believe in an 'all suspects' philosophy, which is why your word may not be quite enough to convince them that you had no part in this." She was so done. She was aching and bruised and tired, and all she wanted was to just go to bed without dreaming of blood and screams and the word _MUDBLOOD_ painted sickenly onto a wall.

"Is Edith okay?" she asked, her voice smaller than she'd meant. Dumbledore bent his head in a half nod, and stared at her over the tops of his glasses. Like his gaze could go right through her.

"She is in the Hospital Wing." Safe. Not bleeding out anymore. Io took a large breath, too big for her bruised ribs, and winced. "If there is a Memory Charm at play here, she may have to be relocated to St Mungo's, but in any case, you are not 'off the hook' yet, as one would say."

"No, sir?"

"No." He leaned forward, blue eyes so bright in the dim office. "Miss Brewsam, I do not believe that you would commit any sort of hate crime, no matter your past or future or friends. In no universe would I think that you would do something like this, but there is no other evidence. I _urge_ you, I hope for the last time, to stay away from trouble."

"I try, sir," Io replied, her voice trembling far more than she'd have liked. Dumbledore simply gave her a nod and a kind, warning smile, and motioned to the door.

"Mr Vaughn, would you please accompany Miss Brewsam back to Gryffindor tower?" 

"Yes, sir." As Deion opened the door, Io noted with relief that he seemed far more relaxed now. They descended the stairs side by side, and when they got to the bottom, he pulled her to the side and opened his mouth to speak.

"I s'pose Dumbledore's word's more trustworthy than mine," snapped Io, cutting him off. Deion closed his mouth with a snap and a frown.

"No," he said. Then- "Well, I mean, at first-" Io snorted, but he carried valiantly on, "-but I was about to say I'm sorry for…"

"Judging me?"

"Yeah. That. Listen, I know about, like, your mum and-"

"Let me stop you right there," Io said sharply, letting a sudden, fiery anger fuel her words. "You don't know anything about me, or my family, or what I would and wouldn't do. So if you ever talk to me, about me, or for me _ever_ again, I will rip out your spine and strangle you with it." Deion just stared at her, utterly shocked. Huge brown eyes. Io felt her nostrils flare involuntarily. "Good?" she snarled, and he blinked.

"Io-"

"Call me Brewsam. Or, better yet, don't call me anything at all." And with that, she shoved past him and marched away down the corridor.

Despite her injuries, she was fast, and it took him at least a few minutes to catch up, but he did, robes flapping like a harried goose.

"Io, listen, okay? Just let me speak." And he reached for her wrist to stop her, but she was faster, and she whipped her wand from her pocket and jammed it under his chin. He let go instantly and took a few steps back, and Io struggled to get her breathing under control, the ghost of his hand still holding a vice-like grip on her arm. No, it hadn't been vice-like. He'd barely even touched her. Almost a year ago, her mother had held her by the wrist and slapped her 'til her cheeks burned, and Arule had cowered in the corner, untouched. Io stared dazedly into Deion's face, until her thoughts touched down and she stabbed him viciously in the throat with her wand.

"Don't touch me." She'd meant to snarl, but it had just been issued as a plea. _Please_ don't touch me. Io Brewsam's Survival Guide, Chapter Two: how to get out of a beating. Beg.

Deion choked a little and Io withdrew her wand, guiltily, then placed her palm on his shoulder and shoved him into the wall. There was water crawling down her cheeks and she dashed it away angrily, rolling her wand between her fingers. She didn't want to hurt perfect, kind Deion. She wanted to find Edith's attackers, Curly's master, and beat them senseless with her fists. Deion rubbed his throat and eyed her, not wary, but empathetic.

"Io-"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'd stay away," she managed, her throat tight and raw.

"I don't want to," he said resolutely. She stared at him.

"Then what do you want? We barely know each other!"

"I want to know you. I wanna help, okay?"

"I don't need help."

"You don't even wanna try it out?" he asked gently, edging his words with a friendly tease. Io hesitated. Another Prefect, helping them look for the attackers, would be an incredible help. Not to mention Curly and Deion were in the same house.

"Fine," she conceded. "You can help me. But only-" she eyed him suspiciously "-if you never ask why." He didn't even consider. He just stuck his hand out to shake hers, and she took it and shook it.

"Easy. Mind if I walk you back?" She didn't mind, so he stayed by her side the whole journey back to Gryffindor tower, steady, gentle, smiling. He asked about the bruises on her face and she joked it was a new tactic Gwenog was using in order to batter Ravenclaw in the upcoming match.

"-and I'm the test subject." And he laughed and somehow managed to slip into conversation that he'd always be around for her, and she brushed it off and poked fun at his Prefect position, and wouldn't his parents be so proud of their perfect little boy?

"My parents are in prison," he said quietly, and Io felt as if a stone had been dropped into her small intestine. She hurriedly tried to cover.

"I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to be a bitch." But he just shook his head and shrugged.

"They're not all bad," he amended. "They send me Christmas presents sometimes. If they're allowed." A heavy silence settled, and Io mentally kicked herself about eight times. "I guess you wanna know what they did," he speculated, somewhat wearily. Io had been wondering, but she shook her head.

"Nah. I bet you get loads of people asking, must be exhausting." Deion shrugged.

"People don't ask. Just kinda stare and pretend like they're not judging."

"Well, I'm not judging," Io said, fiercely. "I swear." Deion smiled.

"I figured." He kept looking at her, instead of the stairs in front of him, like he had been doing earlier. "You're really something." Io cocked an eyebrow and pretended like his words hadn't just sent a shock down her spine.

"Intense? Mean? A handful?" she guessed, drawing from words she'd heard many a time. But Deion shook his head and grinned at his polished shoes.

"Nah. Something in a good way."

†††††††††††††††††††††

The instant she was through the portrait hole, leaving Deion behind, she was violently accosted by both Alice and Marlene, throwing themselves on her with wild abandon. She hugged them both back and tried so hard not to burst into tears again. Then they let her go and she looked around the common room; it was solemn and almost silent, no one was working or playing chess or Gobstones.

"We all got told to go back to our houses," Alice explained gravely.

"Where's Mary? Is she okay?" Io asked hurriedly, her stomach turning with worry.

"She's upstairs with Tilly," Marlene explained. "And Lily had to go to the Great Hall with Lupin."

"Io!" She looked over Marlene's shoulder to see Sirius, James and Peter making their way towards her. Sirius pushed Alice out of the way rudely and flung his arms around Io's shoulders, and James followed suit. "We thought you'd been sent home for a bit," Sirius mumbled into her shoulder, and she could feel him trembling ever so slightly in relief. She wriggled out of their grips for a second and reached for Peter, who gladly obliged in a hug.

"I'm okay," she told them all over Peter's fluffy head. "I'm good." Even though she was anything but good, even though her fingers were shaking like mad and the inside of her cheek was chewed raw and the stares of everyone in the room felt like beams of light, she smiled, small, and made for the stairs, trailing Marlene and Alice. She made it almost to her dorm when Rio seemed to loom out of the door next to it, and behind her, Hazel and Jane were sitting, wide-eyed and pale, on Rio's bed. Io knew she couldn't deal with Rio's snipes right now. Not another fight. She was tired and scared and aching, but Rio didn't even open her mouth. She just grabbed Io's shoulders and pulled her in for the weirdest, gruffest hug Io had ever experienced. She froze in Rio's grip, but after a second, Rio let her go, her brown cheeks burning and her eyes averted.

"You good?" she asked. Io blinked, and Marlene put a hand on her shoulder, and all of a sudden, she just burst into tears in front of everyone.

She ended up on her bed in Tilly's Holyhead Harpies jumper and Gale's old trackies, surrounded by all the fifth year Gryffindor girls. All the blood and mud was washed away, and the bed was very full, with Alice leaning against the headboard and telling a story involving one very particular Frank Longbottom. Io rubbed her fingers over her palms and breathed slow, trying not to think of how she could still feel the stickiness of blood on her skin. Mary laid her curly head in Io's lap and sighed, and someone twitched the curtains closed a little bit. Alice finished her story, and silence settled, full of the fear of the attacks, the uncertainty of the future.

"Guys," Clementine said softly, and everyone turned to look at her. "We're gonna be okay." She wasn't asking. She was making a statement.

"Clementine, our protector," said Io, deadpan, and Jane and Marlene laughed and Rio slapped Io hard, on the knee. Io grinned back and Rio mock glared at her.

"Don't disrespect the sentinel of justice, Io," Alice said lazily. Tilly snorted like a bull, pulled the pillow out from under Alice's bum and threw it full force at Clementine, who caught it and made a shocked face.

"I'll get you back," she threatened, and she upended Io's duvet, throwing them all onto the floor and launching them into a pillow fight.

When Lily returned and the Prefect from two years above, Ariadne McIlkane, came to tell them to get into bed, the girls from the other dorm departed and everyone took turns hugging the exhausted and shadow-eyed Lily.

"Okay, I'm alright," she kept saying, until Tilly forcefully bundled her into Io's stripped bed and jumped on top of her. She was almost immediately joined by the rest of the dorm, and they all ended up in a warm, piled hug, with Lily sighing exasperatedly underneath them. "You're idiots," she said, affectionately muffled, and Mary giggled and squirmed further in.

"Can we agree that we won't let each other out of our sight for the next year?" Marlene said, face squished between Tilly's leg and Io's shoulder.

"Agreed."

"On my life."

"No one's touching my babies," Tilly grunted, and they all erupted into shaky laughter.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io sat at the Gryffindor table at breakfast the next day, sorting out her books and trying not to look up. When she'd walked in behind Lily and Alice with a spectacular blue bruise across her face, half the hall had goggled at her curiously. She'd managed to keep her head down so far, aside from a short conversation with Zel and Tom and a wave at Lucy Renshaw, but then someone in Ravenclaw robes slid into the seat beside her. She almost got up to leave before she saw who it was, and Deion offered her a grin.

"What are you doing?" she asked, bemusedly, and he shrugged. 

"I'm here to help."

"Oh." She'd completely forgotten his offer. "I-" he was still looking at her. Was she going red? She didn't know, but her face was burning up. "I have Care of Magical Creatures in ten minutes," she rushed, so very unsure of what to say. Wait, no, she knew. "But you need to go." He frowned.

"Why?"

"I'll see you at break, okay?"

"Io, come on…"

"No, it's- I haven't told the boys about you helping," she said breathlessly. Deion cocked an eyebrow.

"And?"

"And they'll be weird, I don't know, house pride, you know?" He gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Io, come on-" 

"I'm serious! Look, just- if you have free time, just find out anything you can about Regulus Black and Severus Snape. Oh, and Emma Vanity. Ok? Thank you, goodbye." She made a 'shoo' gesture at him and he blinked slowly.

"Io, I wanna help. Does James Potter really dictate your life that much?"

"No, but he is that much of a suggestive dick," Io snapped. "Please, just go." She chanced a look down the table, to where Remus and Sirius were both squinting suspiciously at her. " _Please_ ," she said. Deion sighed.

"Look, I'll go, but you have to know-"

"What?" she said distractedly, keeping one eye on the boys. There was a thump and a shadow from the other side of the table, and Io looked over. Rio had sat herself down with her bag and was giving Deion the evil eye. He hesitated a second longer and she scowled at him.

"Scram," she growled, and he was gone in seconds. Io stared at her, still not used to the idea of being (grudgingly) friendly with Rio. Rio noticed her looking and tilted her head. "He looked like he was stressing you out. And this weird little ball of fluff also hit Clementine in the face in the night. Think it got the wrong dorm, 'cuz the letter's for you."

"Elwood?" Io asked incredulously. The last she'd seen of her owl, she'd used him two weeks ago to send a letter to Daisy. Very sensible, nothing that would stop her mother from ripping it up and setting it on fire. It had almost been a pain to write, and Io had even used Daisy's first name, Moira, in the address, to please her mother. Rio pulled the letter, a little crumpled and weather-beaten, from her pocket, and handed it over. "Thanks," Io said, tearing it open eagerly. 

"Nice bruise," Rio said, piling sausages onto her plate. Io grunted in affirmation and pulled the letter from the envelope. But the letter wasn't written in Daisy's curly scribble. It was a page of neat, legible cursive. The writing of a Wizengamot judge, though smudged with rush, and somewhat shaky. Her father had written her a letter. Rio had noticed her grey expression and was observing her from across the table. "You good?" Io stared at the writing, not focused enough to shape the words in her vision. It couldn't be good news. No, maybe it could. Could it?

"I-" her breath caught in her throat and she blinked three times to focus her eyes and calm down.

_Dear Io,_

_I just received a letter from Professor Dumbledore and I want you not to worry._

"Whatcha got there, Brewsam?" Io folded the letter in two and stuffed it under her shirt in less than a second at the sound of Dillon Pucey's rough voice right by her ear.

"None of your business," she snapped and he sank into the seat beside her and smiled at her like a crocodile. Lots of teeth. "Got rid of the blue, I see." Pucey's nostrils flared for a second, and then he leaned his elbow on the table and shrugged it off. He was so close to her, their legs were touching, so Io shuffled away, mindful of Rio reaching for her wand on the other side of the table.

"I've got a message for you," Pucey said, through gritted teeth that perfectly conveyed his desire to strangle Io with his bare hands. 

"Lucky me," Io replied drily. "Lucius Malfoy's messenger now, are you?" His eyelid twitched, if only slightly. She was right. Oh, how she hated being right.

"I didn't say it was from Malfoy."

"What does he want?" Pucey watched her face for a moment, jaw set like stone, then huffed a mirthless chuckle. His breath smelled overpoweringly like mint, and Io wrinkled her nose. Pucey leaned forwards even more and she just about stopped herself from leaping up from the table and running.

"He wants you to stop pushing your half-caste blood traitor nose where it doesn't belong," he hissed gently in her ear. Io barely refrained from shivering and when Pucey sat back with an unsettling smile on his face, she fixed him with the coldest stare she could muster.

"And what if I don't?" Pucey put his chin in his hand and pretended to think about it, but just as he was about to open his mouth, a long-fingered hand descended on his shoulder and Sirius hauled Pucey from his seat.

"Go back to your master," he snapped, pushing Pucey forcefully down the aisle. Pucey took a few steps back, stumbling, and sneered.

"Sirius, I don't need saving," Io said in a low voice. Sirius ignored her.

"Someone came asking about baby brother Reggie," called Pucey, rubbing his shoulder where Sirius had gripped him. "Worried he's not doing well?" Sirius reached for his wand and stalked Pucey down, and Io leapt from her seat. Pucey just kept grinning. "I can tell you, he is _very_ good at climbing the Slytherin ranks." People were starting to turn and stare, and Sirius's fingers were clenched, bone-white around his wand.

"Not another word, Pucey," said someone from behind Pucey's back. He spun, and Remus and Lily faced him down, arms crossed, badges glinting in the low morning light from the ceiling. Like avenging angels. Pucey faltered, looking derisively between them. He might have called Io slurs a second ago, and he might hate Lily for her family, but he wasn't brave enough to throw hate at them in the middle of the Great Hall. He shouldered past them both and stalked away, and Io cast them grateful looks. Sirius turned to her with a black scowl still gracing his face.

"He threatened you," he growled. Io looked around. People were still staring. Deion was watching her intently from the Ravenclaw table.

"Almost," she muttered, grabbing her bag and tugging on Sirius's rolled up shirtsleeve. "Come on, let's go."

"I'm gonna kill him," Sirius promised, menacingly, glaring holes into the back of Pucey's skull. "I won't let him talk about my people like that." _My people_. Like she was family.

"Sirius, don't. Let's just leave, alright?"

"A month ago you would have been all for tracking him down and splitting his skull open," Sirius replied, far too calm for Io's liking. "What the hell changed?"

"A lot," Io muttered through closed teeth. "I got a letter and a price on my head from Lucius Malfoy, apparently." Sirius stared at her.

"Seriously?"

"Look, not here."

"Then when? Io, this isn't right."

"Since when do you care?" It came out higher than she'd liked, and he blinked, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"What, hunting down Severus and shaking him out was _right_ , was it?" Sirius huffed in disbelief, but it only fuelled Io's sudden and frustrated anger.

"Snivellus deserves everything he gets. He's probably a fucking Death Eat-"

"Because guilty until proven innocent, right?" Io said tearfully. "So I slit Edith Li open and spread her over the wall, did I? Because you can't _fucking_ prove that I didn't?" She hated how shrill her voice was, but _Merlin_ screaming all her hate out was satisfying. 

"That's not what I-"

"Right and wrong 'til it comes to someone you hate," she said bitterly.

"Io, did you not just see me pull that knob Pucey away from you?"

"That's not my point! And I don't need saving from you, Sirius Black! I don't belong to you!" They stared at each other for a second, one part angry, one half shocked. "Carlotta's calling you," Io snapped, and she pushed past Sirius and ran from the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked, comment + kudos if you did!


	14. Revelations II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io has leads, and the Ministry is on her tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I am on FIRE! 
> 
> Also I couldn't think of a good chapter name haha

"You should have heard him," Sirius said darkly, glaring down at his Bowtruckle and pressing his quill to the parchment rather harder than necessary. They were meant to be taking notes on the visual anatomy of Bowtruckles, and then drawing and annotating the little monsters. Sirius hadn't got further than the title of his notes, as his Bowtruckle kept making a bid for freedom every few minutes.

"What'd he say?" James asked. He grabbed Sirius's Bowtruckle by the legs and deposited it back on the tree trunk they were both using for a desk. 

"Rising through the ranks," Sirius muttered in a strange appropriation of Pucey's voice.

"Of Slytherin," Remus interrupted. "It doesn't mean anything. Regulus is angling to be Prefect, that's all."

"Everything those bastards say has a double meaning," Sirius growled, holding his Bowtruckle still. Ink dripped from his quill to the parchment and he squinted at the creature. Sharp claws, good for scratching Dillon Pucey's eyes out. "I should set this stupid beast on him," Sirius said. "It'd enjoy scratching him up something awful."

"Sirius, you're reading too far into this," Remus replied wisely, but Sirius just huffed.

"Like you would know. Sit _still_ , you abominable piece of shit!" His curses echoed into the Forest's canopy and Kettleburn, leading the lesson, cast him a reproachful eye. "Sorry, Professor," Sirius called, fake cheerful, and then returned to scowling at his unfinished notes.

"Remus, you know anything about what happened to Edith?" asked Peter, under cover of Davey Gudgeon howling as the Bowtruckle bit his thumb. Remus looked around furtively, then bent his head closer to the others.

"They think she got hit with a Memory Charm after being forced to write that message. Of course, there's no way she would have done it herself, that just doesn't make sense." The others hummed thoughtfully and Sirius thought about snapping the neck of every single Death Eater in this place.

"How does Dumbledore let this happen?" he hissed, staring across at where Snivellus was sitting silently next to Evans, while she told him something that made his lips twitch in some greasy appropriation of a smile.

"Cause there shouldn't be purists in a freaking school," Peter squeaked, and Remus shrugged.

"There are purists everywhere, Pete," Remus replied. Sirius sometimes forgot that Peter was half-blood and now, he felt a new surge of bitterness for that blood message. _Not my people_ , he thought fiercely.

Sirius's Bowtruckle leapt for the nearest standing tree.

†††††††††††††††††††††

At break, Io waited for Deion in the Clocktower Courtyard with the letter crunched against her chest, inside her shirt. She hadn't dared to read it yet, and the sharp corners tickled her skin like tempting whispers. _Read me! I'm full of secrets!_

"What's up?" Deion said from behind her, startling Io into turning.

"D'you find anything?"

"Emma Vanity didn't go to any of her lessons this morning," he said. "Snape did, but I found Black in the library, Restricted Section. He was meant to be in History of Magic." This couldn't be good. Io frowned.

"Did you see what he was reading?"

"He scampered when I asked if he had permission, left the book behind." Deion hesitated, twitching his bag further behind his shoulder. Io narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"You won't like it," he said.

"At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me," she replied, with raised eyebrows.

"No, Io, honestly. It's bad. I know you want to believe he's got good in him because Sirius is a decent guy-" Io snorted derisively "-but I don't want to confirm your worst fears."

"Some people are just born evil," Io said, a sick taste in her mouth at the thought of giving Sirius some bad news. Deion surveyed her with his huge, dark eyes.

"You can't believe that."

"Give me the book, Vaughn." Io held her hand out expectantly, and Deion hesitated a moment longer, then unzipped his bag and pulled out a thick book. Purple binding, solid and heavy, gilded with gold. Embossed in deepest red on the front, sunk deep into the cover: _Secrets of The Darkest Arts_

Io couldn't breathe for a second. Triumph and terror and sadness scrambled to be the winning emotion, and she just stared at the cover for a second, lost.

"How did you- how-"

"How did I get it out? Pince adores me." He studied her face, her wide eyes, the quick rise and fall of her shoulders. Then someone walked by and he snatched the book back, stuffing it into his bag before they saw. Io blinked like she'd just emerged from the Imperius curse, and backed away from Deion's bag.

"Holy Beedle on horseback," she croaked. "That book is pure evil, isn't it?" Deion nodded solemnly and Io sunk her face into her hands. "I'm gonna have to tell Sirius." Then she raised her head again and stared fiercely at the bag. "And we _have_ to follow this up."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Deion quietly, and Io frowned.

"What?"

"Rio Calderon told me that Dillon Pucey threatened you at breakfast."

"She did?"

"Please, don't go beat her up, okay? She was worried," Deion said hurriedly. Io scoffed.

"Oh, I'll bet."

"Io, if you're in danger, you have to go to Dumbledore."

"Not in a million years," Io replied firmly. "Adults are idiots. We have to figure this out ourselves."

"I get it, okay? You have problems with people in power, I know what you feel like-"

"No, you don't."

"-but all this will be over so much quicker if we _help_ the teachers find the attackers, or the wannabes, or any weird little Death Eater club there might be. There are outside forces at play here, and you can't fight a war alone, Io."

"This is not a war. This is the Malfoys and the Blacks and their sick power plays-"

"This is bigger than Hogwarts," Deion interrupted, his voice low and deep with danger. "I know because my parents went to prison for it." And with that, he turned and stalked away, head bent and staring darkly at the floor. Io watched him go with trepidation and guilt sitting heavy on her tongue, and then she thought of Sirius and the book and the expression he would have on his face when she told him they'd lost his brother to the Dark.

_"Slytherin!" The green and silver table on the opposite side of the hall erupted into applause, and Regulus Black hopped off the stool with a look that Io could never have guessed at. Regret, relief, terror. She turned in her seat and Sirius sat beside her, mouth turned down, grey eyes shallow and full of something like loss. On his other side, Remus looped his arm around Sirius's shoulders, and across the table, James and Peter sat in awful silence._

_"Sirius, it's alright. He's Slytherin, that means he's ready for everything. And he loves you, that means he'll never leave you," James said helplessly. Sirius turned a stone stare onto the wooden table and shook his head like he was doling out a death sentence._

_"He won't be like the rest of them. I won't let him," he growled. Remus's arm tightened around his friend, and Sirius sunk his head into Remus's shoulder._

_" **We** won't let him," Remus supplied fiercely. And they all nodded, and gave themselves to their silent pact._

All for nothing. Regulus, Io remembered, had been cheerful and friendly at first, utterly convinced Io was going to marry James, and that Remus was going to marry Sirius. Pink-cheeked and excited, and Io had thought it would be easy. She'd played chess with him at Christmas, with Sirius cheering Regulus on, she'd practiced at Quidditch with him and James, each trying to outfly the others. She'd helped him with Charms homework, he'd helped her with Herbology, Remus had taught him Go Fish and how to revise, and Peter had stayed up all night with him in the library in Regulus's second year, calming him down after he'd had an anxious meltdown about his exams the next day. All for nothing.

†††††††††††††††††††††

They all saw the Aurors marching up the Grand Staircase to Dumbledore's office on Wednesday. Io had been on her way to Ancient Runes with Lily, and across the staircase, she saw her cousin, Darwin, watching her. He nodded at the Aurors, then nodded at her, and made a 'come here' gesture. Io tapped Lily absent-mindedly.

"You go on. Tell Professor Babbling I'll be late, okay?"

"Io-" Lily said uncomfortably.

"Look, I don't want to leave you on your own, Lils, so sit with Min, alright? I have to talk to my cousin."

"No, it's not that, I'm fine, I can handle myself. Look." Io's gaze followed Lily's pointing finger, to where the Aurors were walking past a gaggle of Ravenclaws. Wilkes, Dolohov, and pretentious Barty Crouch were huddled together, and in the midst of them…Deion. Not scared or angry, chatting peacefully. Io set her jaw. She had to believe he was gaining their trust. They were the most suspicious Ravenclaws there were, part of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Black's odd little friend group.

"It's fine," Io said, more to herself than to Lily. "Go on. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine," replied Lily resolutely, but she was eyeing the Ravenclaw group with a beadiness Io didn't trust.

"Alright. See you in a bit." She left Lily's side and started to make her way up the stairs, round the pillar, to where Darwin was leaning against the wall, fiddling with his undone Hufflepuff tie.

"Took your time," he grumbled, and grabbed her arm, pulling her down a side corridor.

"Nice to see you too. Where are we going?" she asked, tripping over her own feet as he yanked her along.

"Shh." He seemed tired, worried, nothing like the mischievous idiot he'd been last year. Maybe being suspended had changed him. 

Finally, they came to a long, blank stretch of wall, and Darwin started counting the bricks, seven along. It was a little room with a secret window that looked onto the staircase. Io knew because she'd been the one to find it in her first year, and it had become a hideout for family business. She'd even declined to put it down on the Marauder's map. Darwin kicked the right brick and it _thunked_ inwards, and the outline of a door sketched itself out, then swung outwards on invisible hinges with a nasty scrape. 

Inside, Arule was pacing the tiny room, and when he saw Io and Darwin, he bumped absent-mindedly into one of the chairs Io had brought in a few years ago.

"You got a letter from Dad," he said, almost eagerly, as Darwin closed the door behind them. Io dumped her bag and scowled at Arule.

"You missed the 'hello, I missed you' part," she said.

"I have Potions in less than a minute, and Corfell is threaders with me already, so can we get on with it?" Darwin interrupted, throwing himself into a chair. 

He was nothing like the Morrigan-Brewsam family: he was abrasive and reckless, and the spitting image of his Muggle father. Thick, dark eyebrows, tight black curls and broad shoulders. A Rugby family with Indian heritage. All this, combined with the fact that he was hilarious and a fantastic Keeper for Hufflepuff meant that everyone wanted to be his friend. Darwin had never wanted to use that to his advantage, but Io suspected he'd started doing just that.

Io pulled the letter from her pocket and opened it to read it aloud. The letters jumped at her, familiar now: she'd spent the last two days poring over it with a trembling heart, day and night.

_Dear Io,_

_I just received a letter from Dumbledore and I want you not to worry. I know you didn't write that message, and I've put in my good word as a judge on the Wizengamot as a say-so, though I doubt it means anything to the school board as of late._

Darwin snorted derisively and Io scowled at the letter. She hadn't _asked_ him to do that. In fact, she would have really rather he hadn't. Arule started pacing again.

_I have already written to Arule, but I'd like you to say to him that I've taken Moira away from your mother, and we're living in London now. We are both safe and sound, and the location is undisclosed._

_I will not lie to you: I have made some dark enemies as of late, and in the past. But I am not afraid, and I would like you not to worry about me. I will continue to work and keep Moira safe, and you must continue to keep your head down and stay away from anyone who you think may want to hurt you. We are not favourable in the eyes of many, and I cannot have any of you hurt._

_Look out for Darwin and Arule, and give my love to them._

_Stay safe, and remember that I love you,_

_Dad._

Io finished speaking and folded the letter away, and Arule and Darwin exchanged a nervous look.

"He's not fine," Arule said, resting his palms on the window sill and bowing his head.

"Agreed," Darwin conceded.

"So what do we do?" Io asked, but they both shook their heads.

" _You_ need to stay out of all this," Arule said, pointing a warning finger at her. She smacked it away, frustration rising.

"No-"

"You think I don't know you got threatened by that Malfoy git?" Arule railed. "That can't happen again, do you hear me? Those pure blood idiots are going to hunt you down if you go digging around anymore."

"Let them! I'm not going to stand back as they terrorise innocent kids!"

"Io, this is way out of your hands," Darwin interjected, almost threateningly.

"Oh, and you're both so wise, huh? You're only a year older, don't go all condescending on me-"

"I know how to play this, okay? I've done this before!" Darwin replied loudly, rising from his chair. "And this is not a fight for us!"

"Io if you know something, _go to Dumbledore,_ " Arule said. "And don't think I don't know that you've been sending your boyfriend off on missions. Just stop, alright? Drop it." Io sighed irritably through her nose, grabbed her bag, and turned to go.

"Fuck you both," she snapped, and left.

†††††††††††††††††††††

She didn't go to Ancient Runes. Instead, she stomped her way through the castle, angry and sad, all the way to the Hospital Wing to see Edith. Always angry. Being angry made her angry.

Edith was in the bed furthest from the door, and Madame Pomfrey let Io in only reluctantly.

"She's still quite distressed," Madame Pomfrey clucked, as Io strode to Edith's bed, but she let her sit down, and bustled away after. Io rearranged her bag by her feet, and Edith pushed herself into a seating position, craning her neck to see if Madame Pomfrey was listening. Then, satisfied, she turned to Io with a glint in her eye.

"I know who did it," Edith whispered, and Io's heart kicked up a faster beat.

"What?" she hissed back. "Why haven't you told Dumbledore? Or Dorcas?" Edith shook her head.

"I don't want to tell them. I do not trust them." Io scoffed.

"And somehow you trust me?" she snorted. Edith waved her hand, flicking the question away.

"You're not doing this for the school, hm? You are finding it out for the people who are being targeted."

"I- yeah? Isn't that-- what everyone's doing?" Io asked, a little thrown. Edith shook her head, then froze when they heard Madame Pomfrey making up the bed a little way down.

"I don't know who they will tell. What if someone on the board is bad? What if one of Dorcas's friends is bad? I think... I can trust you." Edith gave her a little smile, then leant closer. "The Memory Charm was weak. It gave me a fever, but I'm better, and I remember: Evan Rosier, and the girl…" she closed her eyes to think back, lips moving soundlessly. Then, "Emma. It was Emma." Her eyes were sad suddenly. "She didn't want to. He made her, and she was my friend."

"Emma Vanity?" Io questioned, just wanting to be sure. She _had_ her, on Edith's word.

"Yes, but you can't hold it against her," Edith said, instantly urgent. Io frowned. "She was forced, like the girl from Ravenclaw."

"Curly. I remember, she told me. Do you know anything about that?" But Edith shook her head.

"I tried to find out about it, and they found me, and they decided to teach me a lesson," she explained bitterly. Io felt her stomach turn.

"That's awful, Edith. I'm so sorry."

"Don't hand in the names, Io."

"What?" Io hissed. The Hospital Wing doors opened and Edith grabbed Io's arm, shook her fiercely.

"Don't hand the names in yet. Stop Emma from being used, please. And find out what you can through Evan Rosier. Please." Edith's eyes were wide and white-rimmed as she spoke, and Io nodded down at her.

"Evan Rosier." Footsteps, coming closer, Madame Pomfrey angrily trying to shoo them away. "Alright, I promise. Get well, Edith." Edith smiled and settled back into her pillows, and Io grabbed her bag strap, hands shaking. A lead. It was like being a detective. _Exciting._ Io slipped back into the aisle between the beds, and there was Dumbledore and Judy Dorchester, head of the board of governors, both flanked by the Aurors that had arrived minutes before. Io froze in her stead like a Porlock in company.

"Professor," she said guiltily, and Dumbledore surveyed her with a sigh.

"Miss Brewsam." Then, to her astonishment, he drew back and allowed her to pass.

"Hold on, Headmaster," Dorchester said, holding up a hand, and Io stopped again. "This is Iona Morrigan-Brewsam?"

"Yes, ma'am," Io said, clutching the strap of her bag. There were four Aurors, all observing her interestedly, and she recognised two of them: Moody and Bennet, from the Curly attack. The other two were a very young white man with mousy hair and a long nose, and a short, nondescript man with awful posture. Moody raised an eyebrow at Io and she looked away. Dorchester turned to the Aurors.

"Would you not like to question Miss Morrigan-Brewsam? I understand she was the primary suspect." Bennet and Moody seemed to have a short, silent conversation, and then Moody nodded at the mousy man.

"Dawlish, you wouldn't mind, wouldja?" Dawlish blinked absently, and Moody clapped him on the shoulder. "Good lad. Bennet, let's talk to Miss Li." Dumbledore followed Moody and Bennet to Edith's bed, and beckoned Madame Pomfrey to watch over Io. Dawlish pulled out a notebook, shuffling the pages anxiously, and Dorchester and the man with awful posture moved away to converse. Dawlish cleared his throat and Io tilted her head at him and narrowed her eyes.

"Uh, so, I understand, you were found, um, with the victim, by the Head Girl," he started.

"Yeah." Dawlish looked at her and coughed, looked down at his notepad.

"Can you- elaborate?"

"Nah," Io drawled.

"I'm sorry?" He looked genuinely bewildered, and Io shrugged. 

"I already told Dumbledore. Everything. And I'm late for Ancient Runes," she said, dropping her hip into a bored posture. She was psyching him out, and it was fun.

"Well, that's not really my fault, I'm just here to ask about the nature of your encounter with the victim-"

"Her name is Edith," Io snapped, and Dawlish pulled up short, and frowned. Then he hitched up his trousers a little and bent his knees, so his face was just below Io's and he was smiling benevolently up at her.

"See, young lady, I'm the law, okay? And you don't comply, then you're gonna end up in a place little girls shouldn't be, hm?" His smile widened, and Io raised an eyebrow.

"Call me young lady again, and I'm'a put my foot in a place it's not supposed to be," she retorted, and Dawlish's face darkened, but before he could snap anything back, someone chuckled nearby and he straightened so quick it made Io's spine ache in sympathy.

"That's charming," Moody said, a lopsided smirk on his face, walking up to them. "Get outta here, Dawlish." Dawlish reddened and a vein popped out in his neck in anger, but he obeyed, and Io watched him go with a smile. Then she turned on Moody, using the full force of her withering glare that she'd learnt from Lily. Moody just grinned, and leant forward secretively. "You got a knack for sniffing around, huh?" he teased, and Io frowned.

"I'm not sniffing around." Moody's face turned serious.

"Kid, it's a talent, okay? But this is serious. You gotta tell us if ya find something. Not all of us are idiots like Dawlish." Io's lips twitched, but she just shrugged and averted her gaze to the ground. Moody sighed and raised his eyebrows, leaning away. "Well, you may not be helping me now, but I can tell you, you might be on the right track for an Auror apprenticeship. Whatcha thinking about doing?"

"Dunno. Not Ancient Runes, apparently, seeing as I'm missing class," Io said nonchalantly, moving her gaze over Moody's shoulder to where Bennet and Dumbledore were stood around Edith's bed. Moody moved to block her sight with a laugh.

"Well, I'd consider going into law if I were you," he offered, obviously finishing up the conversation. "And remember, Miss, anything you find? I'd love to have it."

"You got it," Io said, deadpan, and gave him a mock salute. He screwed up his face in what she realized a second later, was an approximation of a disgusted expression.

"Dear Merlin, never do that again. It was like a wet fish possessed your hand and slapped you in the face." Io fought not to laugh, and Moody nodded at the Hospital Wing doors. "G'arn. Your future in Ancient Runes awaits." She rolled her eyes at him and left, securing her bag over her shoulder and rolling Evan Rosier's name around in her head.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io still hadn't talked to Sirius, but she'd had a few lovely chats with her _boyfriend_ , Vaughn. 

Sirius had been shoving James around in the Clocktower Courtyard at break, after a lost game of chess (Sirius was convinced James had cheated) and then there, beside the swinging pendulum, Io and Vaughn were cosily chatting, heads bent over something Sirius couldn't see. 

After a while, Sirius had almost made up the nerve to go and confront her, but then Vaughn had marched off with an air of anger, and Io had walked dejectedly in the other direction. Then, before Sirius had had a chance to follow her, James had jumped on him and they'd wrestled to the ground.

Now, Sirius was the last one in the Gryffindor common room, after a few too many Counter Jinx essay corrections from Remus and two feet of inky paper flung at his head, and he stared morosely into the fire. Io had been at Potions club with Evans and Prewett since seven, and Sirius was determined to wait up and find out the reason for her blowing up in his face at breakfast. The armchair was squishy and comfortable and smelled like woollen jumpers. Woollen jumpers smelt like Remus, and Sirius buried his nose in the fabric. After all, there was no one around to see.

But Io didn't come back with Evans and Prewett. The portrait hole opened, and Sirius jumped from a half-asleep state to a nervous, firm throat-clear, and Evans and Prewett gave him matching 'what the hell' glances. Evans was draped head to toe in some kind of thick purple liquid, and if Sirius hadn't been worried about Io, he would have laughed, hard.

"Where's Io?" he blurted. Evans shrugged.

"She went to the kitchens," she said. Sirius frowned at her.

"Why are you-"

"Covered in purple goo?" Evans snapped. "Take a wild guess." And she threw an annoyed glance at Prewett, who tried not to grin. 

"Alright. Well, see you, Evans. Prewett." He edged around them and out of the portrait hole, and was halfway down the corridor when he started getting goosebumps. It was the middle of October, and he wasn't wearing a jumper in a millennia-old castle. 

He turned to retrieve one, but a snore issued from the portrait and he saw with trepidation that the Fat Lady had gone to sleep. She was a mean old bag when woken, so Sirius decided to just go without, and he turned on his heel, and set off, shivering, for the kitchens.

When he got there, they were blessedly warm, but they were empty of Io. Why would Evans lie? Maybe Io had just tried to throw her off the scent. Maybe she had a lead on the attack on Edith. Excitement building, Sirius took off from the kitchens and looked either way down the corridor. It was almost curfew, so he didn't have long before he had to sneak around. He'd have to find her, quickly, but it wasn't like he had the map or a tracker. 

He was in luck, however, as he'd only taken a few turns when he quite literally bumped into Io coming the other way. They rebounded off each other and Io tripped and fell on her bum, and Sirius stood triumphantly over her, ready to give her a piece of his mind.

"Sirius," she said, and he noticed only then that she'd gone incredibly pale.

"Uh…" he said. Then he remembered. "Why'd you chew me out at breakfast?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. She blinked.

"I- sorry." Sirius barely noticed that this was a high change from her usual fiery anger, and he carried on.

"Look, I'm only trying to help. I get that you thought I was being a possessive dick, but I just don't want…you know. Just don't wanna…see you get hurt." Io scrambled to her feet, rearranging herself, and Sirius carried on. "I wanna help you, and be your friend, you know? You can't fight _everyone_ , Io, because not everyone's against you." He looked at her, and she looked away.

"Well…thanks. I'm- I'm sorry. For yelling at you." She looked drained, and Sirius frowned.

"You okay?" he asked, reaching for her, slowly. Her face sort of crumpled and she shook her head, and when she finally looked at him, he was shocked to see that her eyes were glistening with tears. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," she choked out, and his heart dropped to his stomach with a splash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a great chapter, angst up ahead… soz my children :)


	15. Heartstrings Into Infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those we love and lose are always connected by heartstrings into infinity - Terri Guillermets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up I'm back AGAIN you (un)lucky people

"Regulus s-skipped class this morning," Io said shakily, and Sirius frowned. This couldn't be good. She saw his frown and looked away, swallowing nervously. "He went to the library, and he was- was reading…" She took a long, shaking breath and closed her eyes. Sirius felt his pulse quicken, and he started to shiver, but not from the cold. _Please, Regulus, not you, too._

"He was reading _Secrets of The Darkest Arts_ ," Io said in a rush, finally holding Sirius's gaze. The floor seemed to vanish beneath Sirius's feet, like he was being sucked down into the Dark, pulled in to join his brother, who had been so weak as to let go of the branch Sirius had offered him. 

Sirius bent his head and heaved in air that didn't seem to reach his lungs. He was dimly aware of Io holding his arm and his shoulder, not speaking, just staring worriedly. 

"So he's gone, then." His voice sounded like dry paper to him, thin and light. Light, like he was lightheaded, with anger, with loss.

"He's gone," confirmed Io. Her voice was watery and quiet. What business did she have being upset? Regulus was his brother. His failure. Sirius felt for the wall beside him and steadied himself, then after a second, he slammed his palm into the stone.

"That's that, then," he said bitterly, trying to pull himself together. "I guess we have a firm suspect."

"Sirius, just take a second, okay?"

"No," he growled. "I'm gonna use this. I'm gonna use _him_ , and his choices, to take them all down." He could feel Io staring at him and he snapped his head up to meet her wide gaze. "You with me?" She must have sensed that he couldn't dwell or hope on Regulus, because her grey eyes hardened like chips of stone, and she nodded.

"Always."

††††††††††††††††††††

They didn't go back to Gryffindor Tower that night. Instead, they walked the stone hallways and passages and corridors of Hogwarts, dodging Prefects and ghosts and Filch, speculating and planning. Io tried too many times to comfort Sirius, and he brushed every attempt off. He didn't need it. He _needed_ his vendetta. He needed her with him. 

There was a dusty Charms classroom at the very end of a corridor on the second floor, and they took refuge in there after one too many close brushes with Peeves. The October sunset was long gone, leaving the classroom dim and full of dark, blurred shapes. Sirius lit his wand and wiped dust off one of the desks as Io closed the door behind them.

"Evan Rosier, huh?" Sirius said, hopping up onto the desk and staring over at the distant suggestion of the teacher's desk. Io climbed up on the desk across from him and shrugged. 

"I guess so." 

"Ever occur to you that Edith might not have recalled that right?" he asked, and Io shook her head. 

"Does it matter what occurred to me? It's the first solid thing we've had in this bloody investigation." Sirius gave a short bark of laughter. 

"We're not bloody Aurors." 

"We've got more leads than them," Io said triumphantly, and Sirius stared at her. She squirmed a little under his intense gaze, even in the dark.

"You talked to them?" he said in surprise, and Io shrugged. 

"More like they harassed me on my way outta the Hospital Wing. Why?" 

"Why- why didn't you tell me?" Sirius spluttered, and Io squinted at him. 

"Why does it matter?" But Sirius just seemed to slump, and he shrugged it off. 

"It doesn't. Doesn't matter. So, how's your boyfriend Deion doing?" There was something like spite in his voice, and Io deepened her squint. 

"He's not my boyfriend," she growled. "And actually, he was the one who found out about Regulus-" 

"And turned my life upside down," Sirius grumbled. "Yay. Good for _fucking_ Deion." Io tilted her head. 

"What's so wrong about him?" she challenged. Sirius scowled. 

"There's nothing _wrong_ about him," he said, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. 

"I don't belong to you, Sirius," Io said warningly, and Sirius's head snapped up. 

"I know! Sorry, that's not what I meant, it's just- he's-" Io tilted her head and waited, while Sirius seemed to search for words. Somehow, this wasn't riling her up at all; it was just a little amusing. "He's _Ravenclaw_ ," Sirius finished lamely and Io sighed. 

"So it's house pride," she said. 

"Exactly!" Sirius exclaimed. "House pride- is- that's what it is." Io nodded and Sirius nodded and it didn't matter that they both knew he was lying.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"So I'm thinking, we follow them on the map, cop a feel for their patterns-" 

"Hold on, did you just say _cop a feel_?" 

"Yeah, it's...Muggle talk. Innit?" 

"Muggle talk for feeling someone up!" 

" _Really?_ " 

"Sirius, you are the most clueless piece of shit- don't tell me you been saying that around Muggle girls..." 

" _Anyway_ ," 

"Oh, Merlin's pants." 

"Back to the plan...We get a pattern of their whereabouts, right? Anything suspicious, we follow the pattern, scope it out, and if necessary-" 

"Break it up?" 

" _Tell Dumbledore_ , ya twat." 

"Ugh." 

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io showed Sirius her lock-picking skills by jimmying a window on the first floor and they climbed out onto the sill, then dropped to the ground of the Transfiguration Courtyard, where Sirius dramatically and noisily pretended he'd broken his ankle. He ended the façade when Io whacked him upside the head softly and shoved his shoulder into the grass. Sirius responded by pushing her into the freezing water of the fountain, and she bit her tongue hard trying not to shriek from the cold. Then she climbed out of the fountain and chased him around the courtyard until they were both out of breath. Sirius flopped onto the grass and she followed suit, shivering as her wet shirt clung to her skin. 

"You're the worst," she said, unable to stop her teeth from chattering. Sirius laughed breathlessly. 

"What are you gonna do about it?" he panted, shoving her over, and she swatted at him wearily.

"What's the time?" she asked after a second, and Sirius just groaned. "What?" 

"I don't wanna go back to the tower." Io rolled her eyes. 

"I didn't say we had to. What's the time?" He checked his watch. Old and beautiful, but Io doubted it held good memories for him. The strap was worn down because, she knew, Sirius had a nervous habit of rubbing it with the thumb of his other hand. 

"Ten twenty-two." He looked over at her with puppy eyes. "I don't wanna go back." 

"Sirius, I'm freezing."

"Wuss." 

"You pushed me into the fountain!" 

"And you're being a wuss about it." 

"Says the guy who fell five feet and started crying." 

"Hey!" He pointed a finger at her and she grabbed it, grinning. "It was at least nine feet," he protested. "And I was _pretending_." 

"Sure, tough guy," she teased, rotating his finger sideways. He yelled and tried to yank away, and she let go of him and pushed him into a scrubby bush. 

They made it back to the tower after much good-natured shoving and insults, and the Fat Lady scowled down at them. 

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" she asked haughtily. 

"Isn't it time we took you down and painted over you with a Jackson Pollock?" Sirius retorted with an innocent grin. The Fat Lady blushed and grumbled, but let them in when Io gave her the password. She was halfway through the portrait hole, gripping the sides with wet fingers, when behind them-

"Sirius!" The voice of Carlotta Pearse echoed, sulkily, through the corridor, and Sirius turned with wide eyes and a squeak of his shoe. 

"Carlie..." he said guiltily, and Io restrained a laugh. It came out as a snorting grunt, and Sirius pushed her through the portrait hole without looking and crossed his arms. 

"You said you wanted to meet up tonight," Carlotta challenged, with a frown. Sirius nodded. 

"I...did say that. Hello. Good evening." 

"Black?" Io said, squatting by the portrait hole with a grin. Sirius turned, hopeful, like he was wondering if she'd found a way out of it for him. "You're a dickhead," she said, and shut the portrait door in his face. 

"Brewsam, what are you doing out of bed?" Io whipped around and Alecto Carrow glared at her from beside the fire. She was the Prefect in the year above, and a nasty piece of work. Io shrugged. 

"Fell in the lake." 

"You fell in the lake," Alecto repeated, narrowing her tiny eyes. Io made an innocent face, and moved for the stairs, but Alecto stood to block her way so quick she looked like she'd barely moved. Alecto surveyed Io's face with narrowed eyes. "You're a little liar," she said abruptly, and Io dropped the innocent face. 

"I got money," she said quickly, digging in her squelching legging pockets, and Alecto looked appeased. 

"How much?" 

"Five Sickles," Io said, counting them in her palm. She'd left the money in there after her previous Hogsmeade trip, but Alecto sniffed. 

"Not enough. Filch is hard to keep off." 

"What do you bribe him with, your dick?" Io joked, and Alecto raised a threatening eyebrow. "Alright," she said hurriedly, pulling out a single Galleon and placing it miserably into Alecto's bony hand. Alecto grinned toothily. "It's not like anyone saw u- me," she said, correcting herself just in time. Alecto was thick and greedy enough not to notice the slip, and instead she shoved Io towards the stairs, clinking her bribe money with her fingers and an evil smile. 

Io slipped into her dorm and was immediately met with a pillow to the face from Mary's bed. 

"Oi!" she hissed, creeping to get her towel from the heater.

"Where have you been?" Lily hissed. "Potter was bugging me non-stop, the bloody mother hen!" 

"Oh, but you like that in a boy, don't you?" Io whispered back, and Lily threw her pillow as well, but it sailed past Io's shoulder. 

"Why are so you drenched?" Lily said, not bothering to keep her voice down. "How long were you and Black going at it?" Marlene giggled and Io choked, horrified. 

"Never in a million bloody years, Evans." And she ran for the shower before anyone could throw anything else at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)  
> I watched Little Women a while ago an I just wanna say I imagine Sirius like Timothée Chalamet  
> Who agrees?


	16. A Veritable Vault of Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io's investigation is moving forward, at the cost of Deion's help and Sirius's respect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so late but what can ya do?? I'm a procrastinator...sometimes.

"Where have you _been_?" James shrieked from behind Io. She jumped, upsetting her plate, and scowled at him over her shoulder. "I thought you'd been shut in the dungeons by Malfoy! I thought you'd been dragged into the woods and murdered! I thought you'd-"

"Alright!" Io snapped, as Sirius lowered himself into the seat across from her with a grin. Breakfast was noisy enough without James wittering in her ear. James grumbled and sat down, followed by Peter and Remus.

"Remus, take your nose out of that book and eat something," whined James. "You always need your strength."

"God, you sound exactly like your mum," Sirius joked, flicking scrambled eggs at James. 

"Pass the salt," Remus said distractedly, still reading. Io leaned over James's plate and snagged the book from Remus's hands. He lunged for it and missed, putting his elbow in the butter dish, and Io wiggled it tauntingly in the air with a grin.

"Whatcha reading?" She turned to the title page and frowned. "What the hell is _Little Women_? Remus, is this erotica?" Peter snorted into his pumpkin juice, and a few seats down, Clementine and Hazel looked over curiously. Remus, beetroot red, grabbed the book back and whacked Io over the head, then glared at Sirius and James, who were beside themselves with laughter.

"No," he snapped. "It's a book about four women trying to make their own way in Civil War Era America. Don't be a dick." Io raised an eyebrow.

"Aha!" she said, like she'd hit a Eureka. "Prostitution." Sirius and James cracked up again, but Remus just shoved the book into his bag and glared at her. "Oh, come on, Lupin. I'm sorry." She made an exaggeratingly pouty face at him and he scowled back at her, then reached for the salt himself. Sirius sighed and wiped a pretend tear from the corner of his eye as James's sniggering faded out.

"So, Hogsmeade this weekend?" Peter said once the other two had settled down. "Sirius, we're running low on Zonko's stuff, and Remus, James ate your-" he didn't get to finish. James leapt up and slapped his palm across Peter's mouth desperately to stop him talking.

"-Sugar Quill," James said with a red face and an innocent smile. "I ate your Sugar Quill." Remus frowned, covering his eggs with copious amounts of salt.

"I didn't have a Sugar Quill." Peter was glaring at James over the top of his hand and making muffled sounds.

"Yeah, the one Sirius bought you," James said breathlessly. "Obviously you wouldn't know because I ate it before he had a chance to tell- Ow!" He withdrew his hand from Peter's mouth, obviously bitten, and rubbed his fingers reproachfully. "Wormtail, really-"

"Chocolate," Peter announced. "He ate your chocolate, Remus." Remus's face turned from bored to murderous in a record quarter of a second, and a few moments later, James was out of his seat and running from the Great Hall with a terrifying Remus hot on his tail. Io watched them go with a grin, and Sirius and Peter high-fived.

"Score one for Wormtail and Padfoot," Sirius said, scratching a tally mark onto a piece of parchment with a pencil.

"What are you doing?" Io asked, nonplussed.

"Prank war, leading up to my birthday. It wasn't specified whether the pranks had to be on each other or on other people, so-" Sirius gave her an evil grin "-expect to be pranked within an inch of your life." Io narrowed her eyes.

"Bold of you to assume I won't be joining in," she said, and Peter paled significantly. Io was known for being ruthless. She pushed bacon into her mouth and waved her fork. "How was last night with _Carlie_?" she teased, waggling her eyebrows at Sirius. He just rolled his eyes.

"Please. Like you care."

"Oh, go on," Io said, dramatically. "I want all the dirty details." Sirius shot her a look and she just grinned sweetly.

"Alright," he said. "Well, first of all, we ended up in that classroom full of furniture, with my hand up her shirt, snogging like fighting fish-"

"Jesus, stop!" Io said, knowing that her cheeks were embarrassingly red. Sirius sat back with a smirk. "I didn't think you'd actually do that," she muttered. "You filthy-"

"That's what happens when two people with zero shame try to embarrass each other," Peter said wisely from beside them. They looked at him and he smiled angelically, until Sirius started pelting him with bits of orange peel. Io sighed and looked away from them, over at the Ravenclaw table, where Deion was helping a first year with her Charms homework. They hadn't spoken since he'd shown her the book, and she'd been an absolute idiot. She'd found him after Potions club, (just before she'd decided to tail Regulus through the dungeons and ended up running into Sirius) but he'd refused to speak to her until, as he had said, she "got her priorities straight instead of using other people to do her dirty work." She'd thought that was a bit unfair, seeing as he'd offered to help her in the first place, but he'd walked away before she could say anything.

He finished helping the first year and looked around. They locked eyes for a dull second, until Io broke it and started to rise. She might as well try and fix this, even though she wasn't known for her remedying skills. Sirius and Peter didn't notice her leave, still engrossed in chucking food at each other, so she grabbed her bag and made her way to the Ravenclaw table. Immi and Emmeline waved at her, and she grinned back as casually as she could, and passed by. She saw the empty space in the little huddle of third years, amongst Martha Hitchin, Patty Sykes, Gail Westenberg, and all the other little girls who adored and idolised Lily. That little empty space, reserved for Curly, who might never come back. Io swallowed the lump in her throat and kept walking. Unfortunately, Deion had seen her coming and was now making a beeline for the door, so she had to do an awkward sort of jog to catch up with him. She got to his side just as they passed out of the Great Hall, and he set his gaze on the floor with a scowl.

"Deion? I'm, uh, I came to say that...I'm sorry." He didn't say anything, and she stumbled blindly on, hoping she wasn't going to fuck up. "I'm...sorry for, like, dragging you into everything. It wasn't fair, um, and I'm sorry? For…" she tailed off. She knew she was _sorry_ , she just didn't know how to say it. They walked out into the paved courtyard, Io still struggling to keep up. She searched for the words. "I'm sorry for being a dick," she sighed, and Deion came to an immediate stop, sending Io stumbling forwards for a few feet before she halted and turned to face him. Other people parted around the pair of them, and Io tried to ignore the multitude of curious stares as Deion surveyed her with bored eyes. She waited.

Finally, he said, "I have a free that I need to go and spend in the library." And he stepped around her and walked away. That was not the response she'd wanted, though it had been one of the many she'd speculated. Io sighed and hurried after him, loosening her tie haphazardly and kicking her robes out of the way as she ran.

"Deion, come on!" But he kept walking, and soon she realised that he was taking the long way back to Ravenclaw Tower. She couldn't run after him all that way, she'd be late for Herbology. She caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, spun him around to face her. He didn't look angry, like she'd thought he would; he just looked defeated. "I'm sorry," she tried again. "How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?"

"I believe you," he said, finally, wrenching his shoulder from her grasp. "I believe you. That's what you want to hear, right?" No. It wasn't. She _wanted_ to hear… she barely knew what she wanted.

_I trust you._

_I'm with you._

_I'll follow you._

She couldn't expect that from Deion. She couldn't have that from anyone. She stepped back from him and blinked away the echoes of all the promises she'd given to Sirius, to Daisy, to Edith, to Lily. All the promises she wished she could keep, could hear back. Deion looked at her for so long, his stare started to burn her cheeks, but she kept her gaze on his Prefect badge, and tried to grasp at all the things she'd thought of him when he'd asked to go out with her months ago. _Stupid, tidy, shiny, perfect boy._

Tidy, shiny boy with no parents to praise him, no one to hug him when he got his NEWTs, yet no one to beat him when he dared to stand up for himself. No one to stand up to.

"Alright," she managed, through a haze of whirling thoughts. "Thanks."

"Io, I want to help you." It was like being punched in the chest, and she gritted her teeth and stared him in the eye, but before she could explode, he spoke again. "Not the way that you think. I don't want to help you take down a Death Eater ring, or tail suspicious people." He searched her face hopefully and she crossed her arms.

"Then what?"

"I just want to help... _you_." She made a spectacular face at him.

"I don't need a _therapist_."

"That's not what I meant," he said wearily. "Look, you're fighting everyone, all the time. If- if you want…" he looked down at his shoes, seeming to gather courage. "Alright, I'm just gonna put it out there. I really like you-" 

"Oh, God, not this again-"

"Let me finish, please," he said, and she looked up at his wide eyes. "I really, really like you. And I don't like watching you run around and get hurt? Okay? Will you please, just give me a chance, and maybe I could help you along the way." Io sighed.

"Are you begging to go out with me now?"

"At least tell me why you don't want to," Deion prompted, "And then I'll leave you alone, whatever you want. I swear." Io thought about it. And thought. She didn't want...she wanted him. Maybe? She didn't want someone so close, who would know everything, all her thoughts and wants and needs. But she knew she liked him. Why else would have let him help? She trusted him. Not like she trusted Lily or Alice or the boys, and that was the problem. She didn't want to date him, then spend the whole time keeping him at arm's length. Exhausting. She was exhausted. But she shouldn't chuck away something important, and he'd said he would help her. She could try. It wasn't like she hadn't dated people before, it had just been _before_. When there weren't looming threats and racist messages on the castle walls. 

Io huffed out one long breath, then raised her head.

"Okay," she mumbled. He tilted his head.

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay what?" He looked genuinely confused, and she grinned at him, a sudden happy dizziness threatening to push her over.

"I'll go out with you."

†††††††††††††††††††††

Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts were both spent telling the girls in her dorm all about Deion, and at one point, Tilly actually squealed out loud, losing Gryffindor ten points from Professor Bentbrooke, the Defence teacher. When Io turned back to her desk, however, Sirius, on her other side, was staring at her with a sour expression. 

"What?" she sighed, and he rearranged his expression into neutrality.

"Nothing," he said quickly and Peter, behind them, sighed into his book of Correcting Confusions: a Comprehensive Compendium on Counter-Jinxes. 

"Something to say, Pettigrew?" Io challenged him, and he squinted at her.

"He's in _Ravenclaw_ ," he whined, and Io huffed in frustration.

"Not your bloody house pride again," she snapped. James lunged over Sirius's desk and grabbed Io's sleeve.

"Io, you can't," he whimpered. "What if we lose Quidditch to Ravenclaw because you're too busy staring at your new boyfriend?" Io yanked her sleeve away with a glare, noticing that Sirius was weirdly silent. Remus, on the other side of James, was slumped across his desk, asleep. There were two sets of notes on James's desk in his same cramped curly handwriting, and despite how annoying James was being, Io felt a small surge of affection. He really did love his friends.

"We won't," she said, picking up her quill.

"He's _Keeper_ ," James groaned.

"So?"

"Are we going to Hogsmeade still?" Peter said sadly from behind them. Sirius shook his hair from his eyes.

"I'm going with Carlotta, sorry."

"Remus doesn't want to go," James whispered. "He gets tired, it's only five days left."

"Deion's taking me to Honeydukes," Io said airily, and Sirius snorted. She rounded on him with a glare. "Oh, and where are you taking _Carlie_? Madame Puddifoots? Real romantic, I'm sure you'll have a blast." Sirius had gone pink.

"She serves great tea," he said defensively, and when Peter and Io started laughing, he turned red. "Carlotta put me up to it! Try saying no to her!"

"What'd she do, shove her tongue down your throat?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Is this a conversation you'd like to share with the class, Master Black?" They both looked up, guiltily startled, and Professor Bentbrooke was leaning against his desk, head tilted and an amused smile on his face. Io sometimes thought he reminded her of gentle Remus.

"No, sir," Sirius replied, falsely cheerful. Bentbrooke surveyed them both with a hard look, then turned back to the blackboard, and Sirius 'accidentally' knocked over Io's inkpot onto her notes. She barely refrained a loud curse, and bared her teeth at him instead. Sirius smirked, just James butted his head between them before Io could retaliate.

"What?" she groaned, reaching to mess up his hair. He dodged and bobbed and she got Sirius's head instead, so she formed her hand into a fist and scrubbed at him. He made a horrified sound and immediately reached up to rearrange himself, while James pushed his way further in between them.

"Rosier," he whispered, and Io nodded. 

"What about him?"

"We've been tracking him on the map."

"Can this wait til after?" Io asked, keeping a cautious eye on Bentbrooke.

"He went to the corridor like four times in the last two days." Io stiffened. "Alone." The school had been in a frenzy since the Edith incident, everyone convinced they'd be next, the place choc-a-bloc with Aurors, and Filch had cordoned off the entire corridor with the message with copious amounts of rope. Io had stopped there for a second yesterday; it was like spiderwebs, warning off people at both ends while Filch scrubbed and Aurors surveyed.

"Alright. What about Regulus? Pucey? All those Ravenclaws I told you about?"

"We tracked them, too. Peter tailed the Ravenclaws, and they didn't break up their group all day." Io narrowed her eyes.

"You took Peter out of lessons?" She swivelled in her chair. "Pete, you skipped lessons?" He shrugged.

"Only double Divination, and I'm good at that. James, you'll come to Hogsmeade, right?"

"Enough about Hogsmeade, Wormy. This is important," James breathed. "Tell Io what you saw." Peter scrunched up his watery eyes in annoyance, but went on.

"They didn't go to lessons all day. They skulked around the library and the Astronomy tower, talking about the Forbidden Forest."

"You see?" Sirius chipped in, hair fixed and shoving his face alarmingly close to Io's. "Nefarious plans."

"Get back, you hairy mongrel," she snapped, shoving him in the chest. Sirius pretended to be offended. 

"Mongrel? I'm purebred!"

"Miss Brewsam, would you please go and sit next to Emma?" Bentbrooke called wearily from the front of the class.

"Sir-" Io protested, but he just waved his wand, and her books flew themselves over onto the empty desk next to Emma Vanity.

"You're disrupting my teaching," he said, "no one can concentrate. Please." Io huffed through her nose and stalked over to Emma, right at the back by the door. Io flumped into her seat and Emma stared straight ahead, grey faced and straight-backed. Io wiped ink off her notes, every so often stealing a glance at Emma. She just sat there, quill poised over a half finished word, the nails of her other hand digging into the desk. Io took a look around. It was Defence with the Slytherins, something James always abhorred against, so there were Min, Lucy, Pucey, Snape. Now that Io had left, Sirius had taken up a new target: lobbing inky balls of paper at the back of Snape's head. Snape was doing an admirable job of pretending not to notice, James was sniggering into his sleeve, and Lily was glaring flaming swords at the both of them. But no one on the desks in front of Io and Emma was listening. Io took her chance.

"Edith knows," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, and Emma stiffened even more. Io wondered if she might crack her spine before she started talking. "She didn't tell the Aurors. She said it wasn't your fault." There was a silence, in which Io tried to siphon off the ink with her wand, but the parchment just started smoking instead. She swore, creatively. She'd left it too late, it had sunk in.

"Rosier made me." The words were so soft that, for a second, Io thought she'd dreamt them.

"That's what Edith said," she confirmed, and Emma seemed to tremble. "We shouldn't talk here. Let's go to the Hospital Wing."

"No," Emma snapped, suddenly. "No. I can't see Edith." Io grit her teeth. Somewhere else, then. The bathroom? Too crowded. Girls everywhere, gossiping, doing their makeup, listening in. Broom closet? Too weird. They weren't running off for a snog. Besides, if she had to guess, she'd say about sixty percent of them were always _occupied_ at any given time. Then it struck her. The room above the Grand Staircase, with the window and the chairs. Darwin and Arule would be in lessons, they lived to work; it would be empty.

"I know a place," Io whispered.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Bentbrooke had let them go only reluctantly, and they'd had to promise return within ten minutes. Io dragged Emma up the stairs and into the room unceremoniously, where they both took a moment to catch their breath. Io recovered faster and took to pacing the room, not wanting to rush Emma as she slumped into a chair. Finally, her breathing evened out and Io spun around, her tongue full of questions and her eyes alight with opportunity.

"Tell me everything you know," she said, "and I'll help you, protect you, anything you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up sooooon. Drama to come, as if there wasn't enough already :)


	17. Honour to Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma spills all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day, I'm feeling good! (Except this one is super short and kinda cliff-hangery, like the last one. What can I say I'm a sucker for suspense)
> 
> Also the end few paragraphs are as full of as much seventies slang as I could stomach (not much/a healthy amount)

"They're all in on it," Emma said darkly, gaze darting from corner to wall to table to Io to window and back again.

"Who?" Io pressed, trying not to think of Arule the last time she'd seen him, warning her off the scent in this very room. Emma screwed her eyes shut and sighed.

"Look," she started, and her voice trembled. "You can't tell anyone. They threatened me, with things they- that they shouldn't be able to have." Io paused in her pacing and frowned.

"You- with what?" But Emma just shook her head.

"Don't worry about that. Just don't tell anyone, alright? They'll find out somehow, and I'd-" she turned a little paler, and swallowed. "I'd hope it would be later rather than sooner." Io nodded.

"Okay. I won't tell anyone. Can you give me some names? Places? Plans?"

"Rosier, for definite," Emma said, seemingly getting into her stride. "Lucius Malfoy, in seventh year?"

"I'm familiar," Io growled.

"Bellatrix Black. Those weirdos in Ravenclaw, I saw them hanging around with Malfoy and Pucey a couple of times, they were talking about-" she screwed up her eyes to remember- "setting a trail? Or, no! Leaving a trail. Covering up." Io nodded.

"Makes sense. Malfoy would want smart people on his tracks to hide what he's doing. Do you know their names?"

"Uh...Wilkes? And Dolohov, and I think they dragged in someone from the Quidditch team…" Io's heart slammed against her chest. Deion? It couldn't be. In those few seconds, her mind raced with possibilities, lies, illusions- "Turner. Mason Turner." And Io sighed in relief. But then her stomach turned. Mason Turner, she'd thought, had been a decent guy. They'd never exchanged words past Quidditch threats, but he'd been in her second year class for Potions, when they'd had it with Ravenclaw, and had seemed...fine. Not deranged like Pucey. Io shuddered. She hated to think where else, in unsuspecting people, lurked Death Eater sympathy.

"Okay. What about Barty Crouch?" Emma gave her a strange look.

"Crouch Junior? No way. I know him, spends all his time in the library, buried in law books. Wants to follow his daddy, I guess. He tutored me in Charms once." Emma gave Io a strange look. "You don't think-"

"Yeah, maybe," replied Io darkly, thinking of Peter tailing the Ravenclaws to the library. _They skulked around the library and the Astronomy Tower, talking about the Forbidden Forest._ "Emma, what- did they ever say anything about the Forbidden Forest?" Emma, still mouthing names and seemingly searching her memory, looked up, startled.

"Y-yeah. How did you-"

"Doesn't matter. Why the Forest?"

"I think it's their meeting place."

"You think?"

"Well, I wasn't in the inner circle! They get younger kids to do their dirty work, they threaten people, shit like that. To throw Dumbledore off the scent, I guess."

"Like Curly," Io said, and Emma flinched like she'd been struck with a Stunning Spell. "Emma," Io said quietly, and Emma stared away. "Did you put Curly under the Imperius Curse?" Emma bit down on her bottom lip and Io watched tears spring to her eyes, but finally, she looked up, her chin trembling.

"They made me. You have to understand, they threatened me, my friends, my _little sister_. They threatened my _family_ , Io. And they can do it." Her voice was shaking uncontrollably now, low as tears spilled down her cheeks. "They can do it. They can find your family, they have people on the outside, secret message trains, killers and torturers. I swear I didn't want to-"

"That is so messed up," Io groaned, leaning her head on the cold glass of the window. Her stomach felt like a bag of sand, like she was about to throw up. She'd been chasing down Curly's master for months, yet here she was, sobbing on a chair in front of Io, begging for her to believe that she didn't want to do it. But they didn't have long, so Io pushed her distaste down and turned back to Emma. "I need more names, Emma. Come on."

"O-okay," she said shakily. "The sixth year in Gryffindor, the one who takes bribes-"

"Alecto Carrow?" Io said, bitterly. Should have known.

"Yes. She uses the bribes to fund...whatever they need, I guess. Her brother, Amycus, left last year. He was big with Malfoy and...Narcissa Black, before she left. Um...that Yaxley guy, in your house. Crabbe, from Slytherin, and Perring...I think-"

"Unctus," Io said, with a savage satisfaction. Her father had been right. Or maybe he hadn't, but either way, at least she knew _someone_ in that slippery family was on the wrong side of history.

"Yeah, him."

"Anything else, 'cause we gotta get back to class," Io said, looking away from Emma. In her peripheral vision, Emma was staring at her. "What?"

"You're not gonna hand me over?" Io wished it were that simple. She wished it was simple and easy and she was doing the right thing, but that wasn't the case, and she doubted it ever would be. She bit her lip and glared out of the dirty window pane. Then she sighed and turned back to Emma.

"No. I'm gonna give you the chance to hand yourself in. I hope you will." Emma met her gaze. "Because that's gonna mean that you're not with them, and that's all I want from you." She didn't add that it would give her a head start from the Aurors, in the time it would take for Emma to give all her information to Dumbledore. Even if it was only tiny. Besides, Edith had said she wouldn't talk to them, and though Io didn't fully understand why, she believed her. Emma blinked.

"You said you'd protect me," she said, voice wavering.

"How long will it take them to find out?" Io asked. Emma shook her head, eyelids fluttering to keep away more tears. 

"Pucey was in that class. They already know."

"What about Snape?" Io urged, the epiphany coming upon her suddenly. Emma looked up at her with wet eyes, hesitating, and Io wanted to shake her until she told. Not the anger. Hold it back.

"I-I don't know. It's...a possibility. I honestly- why?"

"Because I don't want a slimy Dark git like him hanging around Lily," Io growled. "Okay, I'll look into it. Then I'll walk you to Dumbledore's, and you'll be safe there. Anything else you wanna tell me? Anyone on their hit list." Emma licked her lips, and her eyes were darker and more regretful than normal.

"Muggle-borns," she choked out. "Regulus's brother. And they're watching a couple families."

"Who?" Io said, already with half an ear out for the idiots looking for Emma.

"I guess…"

"Not a time for guessing, Emma," Io warned. Their time was ticking short.

"Um, okay. They didn't tell me much, but...Emmeline Vance. She's vocally against them, they haven't gotten around to threatening her yet. Anyone under the name Bones, um, big name in law enforcement. Tom Denvers, his sister, their family. McDonald, you know her?" An icy weight seemed to slip down Io's throat. Never in a million years would she let them get to Mary. Or Tom, for that matter. "Blythe Parkin," Emma stuttered, and Io grit her teeth. "The-the Hornby family and…"

"And?" Io prompted, getting ready to open the door and march Emma up the stairs.

"And you!" she cried out, finally. Io nodded, a frown forming.

"Well, that's no surprise."

"Io, I think your family might be a high priority. Your dad's important, right?"

"We gotta go," Io said. "Bentbrooke said ten minutes."

"You're in danger," Emma tried, but she joined her at the door as Io slid it carefully open.

"Nothing new there," she said, pulling Emma out into the corridor and making for the stairs.

"You're not listening," Emma warned. Io just tugged her faster.

"You might wanna run, if you think they're coming for you. I heard that chump Yaxley packs a wicked Stun."

"Io, please. They're not above horrible things-"

"Like casting the Imperius Curse on a third year?" Io panted, as they began to take the steps, three at a time. She didn't like this: running from something when she didn't even know if it was _there_ , running from probability, from luck.

"They're not above killing you," Emma warbled, but Io didn't slow down.

"Really? What's their favourite way of crossing someone off?" She was half-joking, and didn't expect Emma to start listing.

"Oh, you know," she began, almost hysterically. "Dumping you in the middle of the Forest, slitting your throat, beating your head in. And they know how to cover their tracks."

"You're...the worst running partner...I've ever had," Io grunted, and they skidded to a stop in front of the gargoyles, breathing heavily. "I've...got a message...confession thing...for P-professor Dumbledore…" Io wheezed, suddenly aware of how hard she was gripping Emma's arm. Emma was white with terror now, and Io let go of her. 

"I'm scared," she whimpered, as the gargoyles surveyed them haughtily.

"What happened to good old sassy Emma, who rejected Bertram Aubrey by rattling him in the rooster?" Io snapped, still trying to catch her breath. The look on Emma's face made her suddenly wish she hadn't been so harsh.

"Pretty sure she bled out on the floor with Jane Whittle," Emma replied miserably.

"Look, it's Dumbledore or the grave, love," Io said earnestly, and Emma shuddered.

"Dumbledore ís busy," the first gargoyle said.

"Shouldn't you be in lessons?" sneered the second one. Io pulled out her wand threateningly.

"You wanna let us in, or do I have to blast your ugly beaks to dust?" she growled. Maybe it was her imagination, or maybe there was the distant click of footsteps coming up the stairs behind them. "Cockroach Clusters," Io tried. The first gargoyle, if it was even possible, raised an eyebrow. " _Please_ ," Io tried, and the second rolled its eyes and huffed.

"She has the password, Gregory."

"That she does, Gerald."

"Maybe we should let her in."

"Maybe?" Emma shrieked. "This is a matter of national security, and you're hanging on a maybe? Sit on it, and let us in!"

"There's the Emma I know," Io mumbled, but the gargoyles just sighed.

"Take a chill pill," one said, and Io frowned.

"Where the hell did you learn Muggle slang?" she asked. "Wait, no, not the questions I should be asking. Will you let us in? Please?"

"Alright, alright," the first one said, and with a heroin-like-relief inducing rumble, the stairs appeared. Io shoved Emma on to them.

"Don't hold back," she said. "Or, do, if you feel like doin' me a solid."

"You're not coming?" Emma called as she rose out of sight.

"I've got a lesson to go to," Io called, fake cheerful.

"Goodbye, and be careful," Emma called faintly, and then her shoes vanished and the gargoyles leapt back in front of the stairs. Io gripped her wand, trying to force the sound of imaginary footsteps from her head, and made her way back to Defence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd tag this as slow burn but even I don't know what's gonna happen lol


	18. Unveiled Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Io's already shaken, but a threat from three Slytherins leaves her even more so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, sorry

Io took the stairs down from Dumbledore's office, mentally mapping out all the secret shortcuts she knew that would take her back to Defence without passing through the main halls or the moving staircase. She didn't want to be trapped, if Emma was right and Pucey had alerted Malfoy. She ducked into a side corridor, then through a door pretending to be a tapestry that led to a thin, dim avenue. She knew Hogwarts like the back of her hand, even with its tendencies to shift and change. 

The avenue spat her out at the top of the moving staircase, with its ever-rumbling noise, and she ran across the top of the landing to a door that led to a brick wall. A few feet to its left, however, you could shove your shoulder into an indentation in the wall, and the bricks would shift apart for a few seconds, allowing you to get into a little room with a spiral staircase. Io did just that, and the bricks closed behind her with a series of scrapes as she approached the staircase. She was fairly sure the only people who knew about the room were the five who read the Marauder's Map on a daily basis, but even so, she checked down it for people waiting at the bottom. No one. She took the steps four at a time, bounding down them like a deer, and slipped nonchalantly out of the almost invisible door at the bottom. Not long now. If they were after her, they'd have a long way to go, but her heart was still pounding with anxiety. 

She began to hurry down the corridor, but before she'd gotten too far, _footsteps_. She froze, a million possibilities stampeding through her thoughts, but before she could land on one, Deion came walking around the corner, looking this way and that. 

"Deion!" Thank Merlin, thank the stars, thank anyone who'd listen. Io flung herself on him with wild abandon, and he stumbled, confused. Later, she would be horrified at the embarrassing show she'd made of herself, but now, she couldn't bring herself to care. Deion extricated himself from her arms with care, and frowned down at her.

"What's going on? Where've you been?"

"What?"

"I was going past the fifth year Defence classroom and Bentbrooke called out to tell me to go and find you. Your friend Potter looked like he thought you'd been murdered!"

"I- took Emma Vanity to Dumbledore's." Deion scrutinized her. 

"What'd she do, huh? Insult your mum?"

"No," Io snapped. "She-" but she couldn't tell him. She couldn't. Damn all her bloody promises! Deion caught her expression.

"Okay, sorry. What are you gonna say to Bentbrooke?"

"Nothing," Io said carelessly. Deion's hand was still on her arm. Weirdly, it didn't feel like something had changed between them. It felt like they were Deion and Io, a pair of idiots. Io stared up at his eyes, lost for just a second.

"Io? Nothing? Really?" he questioned incredulously. Io landed back on earth with a bump. No, something definitely had changed. For the better, she was sure. She shrugged.

"Bentbrooke can suck my dick." Deion tilted his head.

"Io…"

But she just shrugged again. "Don't shrug at me."

"Look, I just have...everything, at once, okay? I don't have time to formulate some clever plan to trick him into not taking points off-"

"I thought you spent all your time formulating clever plans," Deion teased, a glint in his eye. "Now, what about Pucey?"

"What about him?" Io asked with a frown.

"Calderon told me he threatened you, remember?"

"And? I can handle Dillon Pucey just fine."

"I don't think you get it," Deion said, suddenly serious. "Dillon Pucey isn't going to come near you. Not on my life." Io blinked a few times before she realised what was going on, and then she grinned.

"So you're my knight in shining armour, are you?"

"Do you want me to be?" He was still utterly serious. Io suddenly felt awkward and weird and stupid all at once. None of her other boyfriends had been like that. They'd all just wanted a snog and a feel, and she was okay with that. Deion was way different.

"Uh-" he must have sensed she was uncomfortable, because he seemed about to quickly change the subject when a chorus of slapping, running footsteps heralded the arrival of someone around the corner. Deion frowned, and Io's heartbeat got a bit faster. Had they found her?

Three people skidded around the corner, robes flapping, and Io's heart sank very, very quickly. Pucey, Mulciber, and that twat Avery looked between her and Deion with barely concealed rage. Then Avery broke into a wheedling smile and started to saunter towards them. Io, on instinct, backed away.

"I'll take her off your hands, Vaughn," he said brightly, but Deion frowned, hand inside his robes for his wand. Io saw Mulciber's eyes tracking Deion's every move, and she put a hand on his arm, pulled it away from where his wand was hidden. He looked back at her, then over at the other boys.

"Bentbrooke told me to bring her back to Defence," he said staunchly, and Avery sniffed, a twitch of his long, thin nose.

"It's break, now, Vaughn. And Slugster wants to see her about Potions." Io knew he was lying. Deion seemed to know, too, but Pucey and Mulciber were tensed, coiled to spring into action, and Io didn't want Deion getting hurt. Not at all, not after Emma's warnings.

"Probably 'cause I failed his bloody test last week," Io replied lightly, and Deion turned a glaring warning glance on her. "Well, don't want to keep you," she said, and started to walk towards Avery. Each step felt like a step to Azkaban. Avery watched her come closer, passing Deion, with a small smile on his face. But Deion grabbed her arm as she went past and pulled her back.

"What are you doing?" he growled under his breath. "I'm not letting you near Pucey." _They're going to kill you, if you stop me,_ she wanted to say. _Run now, so I don't get you mixed up in this again._ But she just smiled at him.

"Nah, it's okay. Slughorn won't give me detention." And she twisted her arm free and walked off before he could lunge for her again.

"Io," he called desperately, and Avery leered over Io's shoulder at him.

"Don't you have some studying to do, Vaughn? I hear the Warlock's Academy in Canada offers special scholarships if your parents have-" he didn't get to finish, because Io punched him in the ribs to stop him from talking, and he reeled backwards, his expression turning nasty. Her knuckles crackled and stung on the impact, but she held a blank façade.

"Be thankful it wasn't your face," she breathed, and she pushed past him to where Mulciber was glaring at her and Pucey was grinning stupidly. She didn't look back, at Deion standing alone in the corridor. Deion, who would have duelled seventh years for her. Deion, her knight in shining armour. Mulciber stepped back and started to lead the way, Pucey by Io's side and Avery behind her, and she tried her best not to think of a walk to execution.

†††††††††††††††††††††

By the end of break, Io still hadn't come back, and Sirius could practically sense James getting jittery. They'd set Peter off to find Evan Rosier, but Remus was tired and snappy and didn't want to do anything except sit on the damp grass by the lake and glare out at the water. They joined him and Sirius pulled out his new copy of _Intermediate Transfiguration_ , and the pages sighed crisply. He didn't think he'd ever opened this book before, but he had three late essays on Vanishing and Switching Spells due tomorrow and he had no idea what to write.

Remus sat back, digging his elbows into the grass, and watched the lake ripple. Sirius averted his gaze from Remus's pensive, angry expression, and tried to return to his book. James just paced up and down the lake shore, scuffing the grass with his shoe and eyeing the group of Gryffindor girls over by the large beech tree, huddled worriedly together. Sirius caught a flash of auburn hair amongst the nest of robes and books and bags, and rolled his eyes; as far as he was concerned, Evans was a lost cause for James. Sirius realised his book was lying open in his lap still, and directed himself angrily at it, bent over, almost nose to page, determined not to get distracted.

_Incantation and Wand Movements: Vanishing Spells_

_Incantation: Evanesco_

_Wand movement: seventy degree curve towards the ground and then a sharp flick upwards.  
_

This was accompanied by a looping, elaborate moving illustration, the motions brilliantly soothing and smooth. Sirius watched it dazedly for a while, distantly thinking that the botched movement was probably why he'd failed to Vanish the entire swamp and had instead taken out Remus's book.

He wasn't half bad at Transfiguration, but Charms and Duelling and Potions were more his forte. James was annoyingly good at most things, but both him and Sirius could never stomach History of Magic. They both just found it so _useless_.

"Oi, Padfoot. Pads, look up." James was nudging Sirius with the side of his foot, and Sirius batted him away irritably.

"What?" he snapped, glancing over at Remus, who was now asleep on the grass, hands folded over his stomach.

" _Snivellus_ ," James hissed, and Sirius snapped his head up so fast he almost pulled a muscle in his neck. James's anger had dissipated to a hungry, laser-focused grin, directed right at where Snivellus was talking to Evans, his pale hands twisted into the front of his too-big shirt. "Whaddaya say?" James said. "Up for a bit of bat-hunting?" Sirius shoved his book aside and scrambled gracelessly to his feet, drawing his wand.

"Let's go get that greasy git," he said with a grin, and he and James marched off together over the damp grass.

†††††††††††††††††††††

They didn't take her to the Forbidden Forest to bash her head in and feign a centaur attack. Instead, they marched her down to the dungeons, into an empty classroom full of purple smoke, and surrounded her by a back desk.

"Alright," said Avery, pacing up and down in front of her. "You've gotta choice."

"Lucky me," Io replied, narrowing her eyes. The smoke was thick and smelt like lavender and peppermint, and it was making her drowsy and anxious at the same time. Maybe they were just waiting until she conked out from the smell. Pucey even had his robes over his nose, but then Io remembered that he was the only person in the year who had gotten off doing Draught of Living Death, because Charley Willoughby had put peppermint in hers and he was mildly allergic.

"You can drop all this, and leave us the hell alone. Let us do whatever we want, and we'll never bother you again."

"Small price," Io snapped back. "Never." Avery grinned like a cat and turned on his heel to continue pacing. Io dug her fingernails into the desk to try and calm her heartbeat, and blinked the sleepiness away.

" _Or_ ," Avery drawled, "You keep investigating us and reporting to Dumbledore like I know you are, and we send a message to our friends outside. And they kill your daddy and your sister." 

Io's entire body turned cold and shivery. _They have people on the outside._ There was no way out of this. She should stop. She should tell her dad and lay low and not antagonise them anymore. Give everything she had to Dumbledore, and let the Aurors take them down instead, attempt to pull Sirius off the scent, smooth it all over. She wouldn't let them go after Daisy. Never.

Avery was still watching, still grinning, and Io fought the urge to hit him with her fists, pummel him unconscious, so he couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

"You don't know where they are," she tried, one last flicker of hope. "Even I don't know where they are." Avery just shrugged and brushed a bit of imaginary lint from his shoulder.

"We have our informants. Now, let's hear your choice." She wanted to tell them to go to hell. She wanted not to believe them. But she was trapped, so all she did was clench her jaw tight shut, and nod. Avery's grin widened even more.

"Avery, let's go," Mulciber said, his voice little more than a gravelly growl. "Snape said-"

"Alright," Avery interrupted hurriedly, and he gestured at the door, then looked back at Io as the other two started to leave. "Remember what's at stake, Morrigan."

"It's _Brewsam_ ," Io snapped, but he'd already turned his back on her.


	19. Ozy And Snape And An Unholy Moonscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finds solace and Io decides she'll have to go it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just- JK is depressing me rn. So enjoy my OC Ozy: proudly non-binary and native to the Hawaiian island Lanai. Been waiting a while to bring them into the world and I feel that they and Remus will get along swimmingly and maybe _swimmingly_ ;) if ya stick around.
> 
> Holy shit I've just been editing the tags and I've realised this story is way heavier than I remember wanting it to be

"Where are you going, Snivelly? Let's catch up!" Snape had caught sight of them and had started to walk away, but Sirius quickly pulled out his wand with a grin and a flourish and hit him in the back with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Snape wobbled, wiggled, and fell to the floor with a look of twisted fury on his pale face.

"Leave me alone," he snapped, reaching for his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" James shouted, flicking his wrist, and Snape's wand flew through the air towards Sirius, who caught it expertly. His pent up energy was jumping around inside him, and he could practically feel himself vibrating with suspense.

"Been chatting up Evans, eh?" Sirius jeered, rolling Snape's wand between his fingers. "Too bad, mate. I hear greasy little kids like you are way out of her league. Maybe if you brushed your hair once in a while, somebody, somewhere, would love you."

"Fuck off!" Snape shrieked, trying to push himself to his feet. His knees gave out again and a sick satisfaction curled in Sirius's stomach.

"Or what?" James laughed, walking up to stand over his struggling victim. "You'll tell Mummy? Cry all you want, you-" Snape reared up and threw a bony fist into James's face with all the force he could muster, and James fell back with a howl, hands to his face. Sirius raised his wand, energy turning to anger, and threw three spells at Snape, not even knowing what they were. Snape dodged them, rolling around stupidly on the floor, the sparks from Sirius's wand scorching the wet grass as James groaned behind him, on his knees. 

Sirius didn't have the chance to try and hit Snape again, because a pair of strong arms suddenly seized him around the chest and hauled him backwards, knocking Snape's wand from his hand. Sirius struggled violently and his attacker threw him sideways into the wet grass and drew their wand, and Sirius looked up into the faces of Deion Vaughn and a livid Remus.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?" Remus snarled, red faced, shadow-eyed, teeth bared. Sirius felt himself shrinking into himself, away from his friend's rage, but before he could start to defend himself, there was a James-like shriek, and all three of them turned to see Evans storming after James as he ran off towards the lake, a hand over his bloody nose.

"Hell. You fifth years never stop, do you?" Vaughn growled, and took off after James and Evans, wand out and shouting for them both to stop. A few feet away, Yaxley, a seventh year Gryffindor, put a stop to Snape's wobbling legs and pulled him to his feet. Remus snatched Snape's wand from the grass and gave it to Snape, who took it with a filthy glance at both Sirius and Remus, and then marched off, Yaxley beside him. Sirius cowered beneath Remus's cold glare, all of a sudden miserable instead of thrilled. Maybe he shouldn't have attacked Snivelly, but the kid was basically a Death Eater. And Sirius had seen the way Reg had started to hang around him lately. He'd just been giving Snape his due for being a murderous little git. Sirius didn't dare to try and defend himself to Remus, however, and Remus didn't give him the chance, just turned on his heel with a wet squeak of grass, and launched into a tired storm across the grass.

Everyone was still watching. The Hufflepuffs, grumbling and turning back to their joint revision session, the pack of Slytherin and Ravenclaw guys grinning and laughing, and the Gryffindor fifth year girls, running over, still in a huddle, to where Vaughn was having to physically restrain Evans from beating the shit out of James. Sirius got up, brushed mud off his arse, retrieved his book, and went to rescue his friend.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io waited until she was sure no one was waiting to jump her when she left the dungeons, then slipped out and ran back to Defence to get her bag. Bentbrooke was in his office, visible through the small window, but Io stole in and out, and he never saw her. Still shaken, she opted to sneak into a broom cupboard on the third floor and review every option she had now (which were limited). It was spacious and practically unused, so she threw her bag into the corner and took to pacing, four steps from the tiny, dirty window to the door. One, two, three, four, turn, four, three, two, one, turn, one, two…

Her solutions ranged from lax and stupid (obey and step back) to outright ridiculous (fly out of Hogwarts and warn Dad with Death Eaters on her tail), but none of them helped. Io grew increasingly panicked and frustrated, but nothing was working and time was slipping away. Maybe she would tackle this better on a full stomach and a distracted brain? She didn't know how long she paced from window to door, but she was fairly certain she'd missed Arithmancy by the time she'd pulled herself together. She paused in the middle of the cupboard and forced herself to breathe air slowly and carefully, and steadied herself against the wall.

There was no need to worry. She would fix it. She would fix _everything_.

†††††††††††††††††††††

No one knew about Ozy. Well, Remus wouldn't go so far as to say no one _knew_ about them, as they were usually the centre of ignorant abuse amongst their peers at Hogwarts, but no one knew about Ozy and Remus. Ozy had joined two years ago, a native of the Hawaiian island Lanai, who had forgone Ilvermorny after two years in the hopes that Hogwarts would be friendlier. According to Ozy, it had, but Remus was still stung every day at the injustice thrown at Ozy by the people at Hogwarts, and couldn't imagine what having it worse at Ilvermorny must have been like.

The two of them had met in the Transfiguration class that the Gryffindors had had with the Ravenclaws: they'd been seated together in the second lesson of the term by Professor McGonagall after Nancy Nott had spent the entirety of the first class staring unabashedly at Ozy and asking them rude and uncomfortable questions. Nancy had been given a stern reprimand, but she'd never apologised. McGonagall had given Ozy the choice of the room after that, and Ozy had chosen the seat next to Remus. Remus sometimes wondered if Ozy's thoughts had been something along the lines of, "ah yes, the least intimidating person I've seen all day. I want that bundle of jumpers and scars." He liked to think that, because it made him smile.

Their relationship had only grown after that. Despite Ravenclaw being known as the smart house, Ozy could never care less about the curriculum, and liked to spend their time trying to make new spells or potions. Therefore, Remus sat with them in the library and did his homework (when James would let him out of his sight) and on the opposite side of the table, Ozy pored over the dustiest books in the library with their cheeks creased in concentration. Ozy had never asked about Remus's monthly disappearances or scars or twitching nightmares if Remus fell asleep over his half-written essay. Remus soon found out how homesick Ozy always was (with good reason) and from then on, the two of them always started their study sessions with Ozy's tales of home, wild hand gestures and bright eyes full of sunlit memory. Ozy was the best story-teller, and Remus always listened with rapt attention, because how could he not? 

Ozy was also soft and friendly and welcoming, and if Remus didn't seek Ozy's time and stories after tough, anxious episodes, then Ozy would seek Remus out themselves. They always knew, somehow, especially after the confusing times when Remus would look at Sirius and feel achey and awkward, and then Ozy would listen and grin like a knowing, melancholy ghost, and seem to hold back something behind tight lips.

Now, however, Remus prowled the castle for the last ten minutes of break, desperately checking every room for Ozy and getting closer and closer to a breakdown with each step. He couldn't look for Io. He wouldn't want to face her and tell her he hadn't stopped Sirius and James from puffing themselves into bullies and going after Severus for what seemed like the millionth time. She'd be disappointed and angry, even more so than usual, and he couldn't do it. 

As the bell rang, signalling the end of break, Remus started to tear himself in half between his Arithmancy lesson and looking for Ozy. They wouldn't be in lessons. They didn't usually bother to go unless Remus pestered them, but he couldn't for the life of him think where they were at the moment.

Then it hit him. In the middle of the Charms corridor on the fourth floor, Remus slapped his forehead with a loud _crack_ and groaned out loud, "The library. Bloody hell." Several people around him shot him funny looks, but Remus ignored them all and started to push through the hurrying lesson crowd, struggling against the flow. He'd fake a Hospital Wing visit. Vector favoured him, she'd eat it up, even if she didn't believe it.

True to speculation, Remus found Ozy stretching all six feet two inches of themselves down a bench at the back of the library, yawning so wide Remus could have fitted his Astronomy book in there. And it was a big book. Remus slid into the bench on the other side of the table and Ozy heard him, scrambling to gather bits of parchment and random loose pages into a pile until they saw who it was.

"It's you," they said, slumping back into their seat in relief. Remus smiled in way of greeting.

"Who did you think I was?" he asked. Ozy shrugged and bent back over their book.

"Madame Pince likes to swoop past and glare at me like some kind of avenging vulture. If she saw all the loose paper, she'd think I'd been vandalising her precious jewel of a library."

"And are you?" Remus prompted, reaching for one of the loose pages, one covered in inky diagrams. Ozy snorted as if the very notion had caused them pain.

"Of course not! You know I'd never hurt a book," they said, ghosting their fingers over the stained pages of the book on the table.

"Sorry. I should have known you'd never stoop that low." Ozy looked up sharply and narrowed night-black eyes.

"You're not asking about Lanai," they hummed, slapping close the dusty cover of the book. "What happened?"

"Tell me more about the Kaunolu Village fishers," Remus replied innocently. Ozy huffed.

"Coy isn't a good look on you, Lupin."

"Coy is an excellent look on me. I look good in everything."

"Oh, come on. I spill half my life to you, I have a right to know how to make you feel better." Remus declined, until Ozy fixed him with a stare that could have cut diamonds, and then he looked down at his long, scarred fingers and hid them under his sleeves.

"Can we go somewhere else?" he asked, eyeing nosy Carlotta Pearse out of the corner of his eye. Why wasn't she in some random broom cupboard, clung to Sirius like a limpet? 

"Sure," Ozy said, sweeping creased papers into their bag and stuffing them down to make it all fit. "Mm, should I take the book? I'll take it. Let me check this out, then let's go." They slid off the bench, towards Madame Pince, and Remus made for the door to wait outside, Carlotta and her friend Marini eyeing him as he went.

Ozy didn't take long, and as soon as they came out, still rearranging the contents of their chaotic bag, they asked where Remus wanted to go.

"I don't know," he said helplessly. He ran a fingernail down the strap of his bag. His wrists were trembling. "Everyone's in lessons, maybe we could just talk in the halls?" Ozy frowned.

"Mm. Well, the halls might be empty of _students_ , but what if we bump into Professor McGonagall?" They shuddered. "I've been avoiding her since last Christmas." Ozy thought for a second, then snapped their fingers with a triumphant grin. "Broom closet." Remus balked and Ozy's grin widened. "What's the matter? Afraid the empty halls might start some rumours?"

"No," said Remus, almost too exhausted to be mock angry, and Ozy saw it straight away.

"Aw, jeez," they muttered. "It's really bad. Come on, let's get this out quick." They took Remus by the elbow and guided him down the hall, onto the moving staircase, easily through the missing steps and trick banisters, and into a nice, spacious broom cupboard on the second floor. Another thing about Ozy: they had an incredible memory. They could walk the halls of Hogwarts from one end to the next and know exactly where all the worst spots were, and avoid them all. Not that it ever stopped them from being late to lessons, or not turning up at all.

Ozy dumped their bag in front of the door with a heavy _clunk_ of books, and sat down on an upturned bucket.

"Now let's go through this slowly," they said. "No breaking down just yet. Breathe, please, Lupin, and tell me what happened."

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io was definitely not prepared for being told about James and Sirius's little episode with Severus Snape. She was even less prepared for being told so by a raging Lily Evans as she stalked up and down in front of the Gryffindor fire that evening, their dorm taking up all the space on the armchairs. A few sixth years were shooting them annoyed looks, but Lily's angry rant was keeping them at bay, like a lion scaring back a clump of sparrows.

"... completely unprovoked, pulled out his _fucking_ wand and and started _laughing_! I swear," she growled, grinding her heel into the rug illustratively, "if I see Potter again, I'll beat his head in. I am _not_ going to tolerate his ego-fuelled, cock-bastard bullying as long as I live!" Mary and Marlene watched this new version of the usually non-violent Lily with trepidation, but Io had seen this sort of episode before quite a few times. The infamous James Potter had, across the years, infused incredible rage into Lily Evans through his ridiculous stunts, peacocking and general stupidity, but now it seemed Lily had finally cracked. 

Honestly, though, Io had to side against James and Sirius now. She'd stuck her neck out for them again and again, listened to them snigger about hurting people, watched them swagger the corridors, and very often failed at taking them down a peg or two. Now, with these new threats from Avery and having to actually _be a good person_ for Deion (God forbid), she was very close to pushing them away, maybe for good. They could only think of their own interests, and Lily's rant right now was running parallel to the thoughts streaming through Io's head.

"Io, are you listening?" Lily snapped, and Io raised her head miserably.

"What?"

"Couldn't you ever have thought to do something about them? Maybe nail it into their thick heads that the universe doesn't revolve around them? Or are you content to just watch them hurt people?"

"Lily, baby, chill," Tilly warned, but Io wasn't in the mood.

"Oh, you don't think I've tried?" she growled, and Lily raised one perfect eyebrow. The common room was suddenly a lot quieter, but Io didn't back down. "You said it yourself, they're thick. Maybe you could've used all the attention James gives you for good, instead of wearing it like a fucking medal!"

"I don't want his attention!" Lily hissed back. Io opened her mouth to argue, but a weariness overtook her suddenly and she shook her head and stood.

"Whatever." She made for the portrait hole, and someone laughed in the corner.

"Girl fight!" Someone else called, and it took all of Io's will to just keep walking out of the tower. Gryffindor could never resist a bit of drama, but Duelling Club started at six thirty, and it was one of the only good things to come out of this day, apart from Quidditch, which started at eight. Sirius wouldn't be there and neither would James, as they were being detained in a month-long detention, every day at six pm. Good riddance, Io thought bitterly. Maybe Remus would be there, or Zel or Deion. Maybe someone she could talk to, who would actually be of help instead of being arrogant, stupid teenagers.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"I'm a werewolf," Remus blurted. Ozy stared at him. Silence, that pricked his skin and drew goosebumps and made the shining sunset from the dusty window cold and dark. Remus tucked his hands into his sleeves, running his finger over the long, raised scar on the base of his left thumb. Ozy stared, still. Remus's heart was beating unreasonably fast, or, maybe, not so unreasonably. He half expected Ozy to just spring up and run from the cupboard in terror, but they seemed frozen. 

"Kukae," they breathed finally, those night-black eyes as wide as Galleons. "Holy Merlin. A werewolf." Remus took a few steps back to give them space, and they clutched their heart and seemed to gasp for air.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, before he could stop himself. How would they see him? Oh, God. This was all a terrible mistake. "I thought...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. But please, don't tell...I'm sorry. Please don't tell anyone." This timid, trembling voice, so unlike his, spilled forth pleas and apologies for something he had no control over, and he hated it. Ozy bent to put their head between their knees, and Remus considered bolting for the door. This close to the full moon, he probably shouldn't have been around Sirius and James and their ability to cause trouble from peace. He shouldn't have been in an environment that would have worked him up and landed him in this situation, spilling his dark secrets to someone who didn't need that weight. "Ozy?" They raised their head, finally, and their wide shoulders trembled just a little. Nothing in comparison to the shaking that Remus's hands were doing, still hidden beneath his long sleeves.

"The-the long sleeves. The scars. The monthly disappearances. God, how could I have missed it? I'm so sorry, Remus."

"What?" They weren't screaming obscenities, or running, or cowering. They were gently shaking their head and staring up at him with a soft expression. But then, Ozy had never been the obscene type. "You don't- do you...what must you think of me?" But they waved the question away like it weighed nothing.

"The same as before, obviously! What kind of Kanaka would I be if I didn't practice compassion in every part of my life?" Remus could only stare at them incredulously. He'd been so sure that this had been a bad idea. A terrible, horrific slip. But Ozy carried on nonchalantly. "Besides, I do have a little experience in your arena."

"With werewolves?" Remus asked, still reeling.

"No," Ozy said kindly. "With telling the people I trust, and being shunned by general society, and living in constant fear of other people's judgement. Although, I suppose you also live in fear of yourself, and that's something I've never experienced." They stood, and fixed Remus's stooped, pale countenance with a benevolent smile. "I'm glad you told me, Remus. You should know, I, of all people, will never judge you or shun you." Remus could think of nothing to say in response to this unexpected kindness that had knocked him back like a warm, smiling _Flipendo_ spell.

They didn't give Remus a chance to respond, because they threw their arms around him instead and brought him into a warm hug. 

"Thank you," he mumbled into their (admittedly nicely solid) shoulder, blinking back tears. Ozy let him go and stepped away, rearranging their tie and smiling.

"Any time you've got any more dark secrets to spill, I'm the one, remember?" they joked, and Remus gave a watery smile. They sat back on their bucket with another look, and folded their hands on their lap. "There's something else, isn't there?" Remus shook his head, confused.

"I'm 'fraid I don't have any more 'dark secrets'," he said, but Ozy rolled their eyes.

"No. I meant with a certain Sirius Black." And Remus's heart skipped about five beats. From the look on their face, Ozy had realised, but it wasn't the look Io got when she caught Remus slipping an unsuspecting Sirius over the shoulder glances. It wasn't gleeful. The expression looked like it was _trying_ to be gleeful, but had been waylaid by something less certain on the way in. "I knew it," they said, less triumphantly than...neutrally. "You fancy him." Remus dropped his face to his hands.

"He doesn't even see me," he said, and it sounded terribly pathetic, but Ozy puffed a snort.

"Please. Sirius Black doesn't deserve you."

"He's a good person," Remus tried. "Despite what everyone says. And sees." Ozy stretched their arms behind their head.

"Remus, come on. You could have far better than him."

"Doesn't make it any easier," Remus grumbled. Then he sighed. "Look, I don't even know...what I like. I don't _think_ I'm gay: I liked Ainsley Beale in third year, and I went out with Letitia Carson in fourth year, but he's...nice looking. And…" this was so embarrassing. Gushing over Sirius to Ozy, still reeling from blurting out his worst secret, in a little broom cupboard, hidden away from everyone. But it wasn't like he was being missed. They'd skipped a few lessons, had lunch and then met up after a few in the broom cupboard again. Why not carry on? He'd never spilled this much to a living person before, besides maybe Lily or Io or James. "I like both girls and boys, I suppose. But it's not about their...gender. Merlin, I don't know." Ozy rested their chin in their hand.

"Maybe you're pansexual."

"Maybe I'm _what_?" Remus exclaimed. 

"Attracted to everyone, regardless of gender. What do you think?"

"Maybe," Remus said slowly. "I...thanks."

"No need to thank me," Ozy said, smiling still. They seemed to have unused reserves of smiles, every day.

"I'm sorry for throwing this on you," groaned Remus, turning to the window and pushing his forehead into the cool glass. The sun gleamed behind a green peak in the distance, small and round and bronze like a Knut. "We're not the same," he said dully, after a second.

"How'd you figure that one out?" Ozy joked softly. Remus shook his head, and the window pane squeaked beneath his skin.

"Our struggles and pains are the same, like you said. Judging and shunning. But... you're...you don't fit into other people's boxes. You're your own person. You...I don't know if I'm saying this right."

"It's okay," Ozy said gently. "Go on."

"You're non-binary, not one of the two genders that society set out for you. Outside of the normative that other people demand, and that's _you_. That's beautiful. It's brilliant." His eyes stung and he blinked to clear his vision, but his throat thickened. "I'm not like that. I'm a m-"

"Ah, no," Ozy said sharply. "Don't you say it." Remus thumped his head against the window pane.

"It's true," he whispered. Ozy rose with a clang from their bucket and crossed the cupboard space in seconds, resting a hand on Remus's shoulder and pulling him away from the window. They tucked their sleeve over their palm and used the heel of their hand to wipe the tears from Remus's face, then frowned, the two of them eye to eye. Ozy was tall, one of the only people as tall as Remus in their year, but built bigger, much bigger, and Remus felt so small and safe suddenly.

"No," they said simply. "It's not. You are _you_ , just like you said that I am me, I choose what I know that I am. That didn't...make much sense, but you know what I mean." They gripped his shoulders harder, frown creases forming on their brown cheeks again. "You're Remus Lupin, my friend, not a werewolf in a baggy sweater. If we were nothing more than what the people said we should be, we'd be all the same and there'd be no _colour_ in the world. You understand? There aren't any monsters, Remus. There are people who hate, people who stand by and watch, and there are people who know what they are and what they deserve, and it just so happens that you need to know: you are Remus Lupin, not just a werewolf, not just a boy, and you deserve the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im very sleep deprived and not very focused and also stupid. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also I retract my statement about Timothée Chalamet being Sirius: he's a bit of a skinny chicken and I don't imagine Sirius that small, idk. Sorry Timmy.
> 
> Off topic: I watched the Prestige and I thought Scarlett Johansson's English accent was actually kinda top notch. If a bit stilted/modern. what do you think?


	20. When Honour Turns And Honesty Fails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Sirius pounce on Severus Snape. McGonagall makes two announcements, and Io can't let go, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's uuuuupppp! Woo!  
> Hey, Gwenog is in this! Why? I'll never know :) Feels, I'm sorry
> 
> Anyone want to know a tip for naming chapters dramatically? Look up YA books, the titles will give you ideas  
> Or short profound quotes/bits of poems  
> Ya welcome

"Is everyone here?" Gwenog asked, craning her neck to look around. "Fuck's sake, where's Potter?" Io folded her arms and scowled, Caine sighed uncomfortably and Tilly tugged on her gloves without looking up.

"He's in detention, innee?" Andrew said, and Gwenog swelled like a muscular balloon.

"What for?" she growled.

"Bullying that Snape kid," replied Andrew, obviously nonplussed that no one else was answering. Gwenog seemed to huff smoke from her nostrils, and swung to glare at Io, who picked at her nails and pretended not to notice.

"Brewsam," she growled.

"Uh-huh," Io said.

"Why didn't you say?" Io just shrugged. "Well, next time you see him, tell him if he thinks he's so entitled, he can get the hell off my team, a'ight?" They glared at each other for a second, and then Io shrugged again; Gwenog took a moment to gather herself, then glared at them all and jerked her head in the direction of the pitch. "Go on. Get in the air. And if I get out there and _any_ of you are fucking about, you're off. Alright? I'll send you back in. Go!" And off they ran, with a scared clatter of brooms and boots, leaving Gwenog by herself in the changing rooms. 

The stands were scattered with a few students, out in the chilly, darkening October air to have some entertainment while trying to do their homework. Io scanned them for Marlene, who'd promised both Tilly and Io that she'd come and watch, but before Io had finished looking around, she spotted Remus sitting with a tall, lounging figure in the Gryffindor stand. Remus was easy enough to make out: Io had spent years searching for his sandy-red head and slouching left shoulder in crowds, but she couldn't for the life of her see who the person next to him was. 

She was rudely brought back to earth when she tripped over Ellie Spinnet's broom tail, having not seen where she was going, and earned herself an annoyed frown. Ellie wrenched her broom back and Io flushed and pulled her goggles on.

"Alright, kick off, then, everyone," Blythe called from beside Andrew, and the rest of the team obeyed, all of them keeping half an eye on the changing rooms to see if Gwenog was coming out yet. Io pushed off from the ground, starting to follow Caine and Tilly on a warm-up loop around the pitch, and when Blythe wasn't looking, Io broke off and flew down to the stands to get a closer look at Remus. He saw her go by and waved, but she squinted and ignored him...aha! Ozy Kahele, the crazy Ravenclaw that always smelled like a Potions classroom. She veered quickly away from the stands to stop herself from crashing, and sped up to join Tilly and Caine, already grinning at the teasing she'd be giving Remus when she got off the pitch.

As it turned out, it wasn't as simple as that. Gwenog worked them hard, harder than usual, seemingly very irritated by the loss of their best Chaser to detention, and by the end of practice, they were all muddy, cold and exhausted. Gwenog took a moment at the end to scare off some Hufflepuff scouts who'd been watching their formations, and then she flew back down to the team and screamed at them all for no apparent reason. Io knew that Gwenog's way of letting off steam was whacking Bludgers on her broom and yelling, but that didn't make it any more bearable. They all showered and changed in miserable silence, until Gwenog, always the first to finish, left the changing rooms with hard footfalls and her broom and duffel bag over her shoulder. Tilly watched her go with a scowl.

"Girl's got problems," she muttered, pulling her t-shirt over her head. Blythe and Ellie exchanged significant looks, but didn't add to the conversation until Tilly spoke again. "Seriously, did someone break up with her?"

"She's not having a good time right now," Blythe offered, and Tilly raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I never woulda thought, she's so full of herself," she replied. Ellie frowned.

"I'd leave it, Bell," she warned gently, and Tilly looked at Io, who just rolled her eyes. Let her think what she wanted to.

"You got to let her come around," Blythe said, when Tilly looked like she was about to argue. "She just wants everything to go right. She can't do that when you fifth years keep killing each other off." Io knew she was joking, but the words made her shiver. She pulled on her clothes as quick as she could and got the hell out of there.

Remus and Ozy Kahele were both gone when she got out, and the stands were empty. Marlene was waiting by the changing room door, puffing into her chill-reddened hands and jogging on the spot, and she brightened when she saw Io.

"Yo!" she called, and ran over, holding out a hand to take Io's bag.

"Nah, it's okay. Tilly's out in a bit, but I'm gonna walk up by myself, if that's okay."

"Yeah! You do you. Nice flying, by the way," Marlene replied with a shivering grin. Io smiled weakly in response and began the long walk back to Gryffindor tower.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Remus wasn't talking to either of them, and Peter was too scared to get caught in the middle, so he'd just started hanging around Harvey Vane and his friends. Sirius hadn't seen Io yet, though he'd been told she had gone to Quidditch practice, so while he wasn't worried as such for _her_ safety, he wasn't looking forward to the rage she most definitely would bestow upon him when they met again. 

Carlotta, on the other hand, either hadn't heard or didn't care, and was very nicely pushed into Sirius's side as they sat on the window seat by the Charms corridor. It didn't do much to assuage his guilt, but she was warm and pretty and kissing his neck, so maybe it wasn't all bad…

"Oi, limpets!" They separated, Carlotta with a grumpy sigh and Sirius with a groan, and both scowled at Marlene McKinnon and Tilly Bell grinning at them from the other end of the corridor. "Gross, Pearse. Get some taste," Marlene said. Sirius wiped his neck and pouted, injured, but neither of the girls seemed to care. 

"The heads of houses are rounding everyone back to common rooms, you might want to get unstuck before Minnie McGee finds ya," said Tilly, and before Sirius could throw something at them, they'd disappeared. Sirius turned back to Carlotta, and she made a sad face at him.

"I'll see you later," he said. "We still on for Hogsmeade?"

"You know it," she replied with a sultry grin, and then she grabbed his collar, pulled him in for one last kiss, and left him, dizzy and grinning. _God_ , but she was good. She was sexy and wanted him _all the time_ and maybe she was a bit emotional at times but Sirius didn't really focus on those parts. He sat there for another few seconds, then pulled himself together and made for the Gryffindor common room.

He caught up with Marlene and Tilly halfway up the stairs and pushed between them, flinging an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Ladies," he said with his most dazzling smile for each of them. Marlene sighed and Tilly cast a somehow both disgusted _and_ impressed look at his neck.

"Hickey alert," Marlene said, and Tilly blushed. 

"I've got a favour to ask," Sirius drawled, as nonchalantly as he could.

"Like hell," Marlene snapped, at the same time that Tilly said, "Ask away," and smiled. Sirius looked between them. Marlene glared at Tilly.

"Well, Bell's on board. What will it take to convince you, Marlene my darling?" Sirius asked, giving her the most suggestive look he could. She stared right back with bored brown eyes.

"I'm gay, you idiot," she snapped after a long, drawn-out pause, and Sirius relaxed his seductive expression.

"What, really?" he asked, nonplussed.

"Yes," she said. "And even if I wasn't I'd never touch you." Sirius frowned. Rude. And hurtful.

"That's just-"

"You've got a girlfriend, and you just offered me a sexual bribe," Marlene said. Tilly shifted uncomfortably under Sirius's arm, blushing a little. Tilly Bell wasn't known for her blushing.

"We're not _exclusive_ ," Sirius said, cocking an eyebrow down at Tilly, who looked away. This was fun.

"Leave her out of it, if you please," Marlene said, looking smarted when Tilly and Sirius exchanged a look.

"Oh, but this is fun," Sirius whined. "Come on, McKinnon. Just one teensy favour?"

"Alright, what?" Tilly said impatiently. "She agrees, what is it?"

"Don't tell Io I was with Carlotta," Sirius said uncomfortably. There was a pause, and then Tilly let out a snort of laughter and Marlene shook her head.

"Black, you don't need _us_ to tell her," Marlene said. "She'll know just by looking." And she poked him in the bruise of his neck, ducked under his arm and ran off.

†††††††††††††††††††††

As if she wasn't in a bad enough mood already, as soon as she was through the portrait hole, there was James Potter, sitting pretty as you please by the fire, warming his toes and doing his bloody homework. Gwenog dropped her bag and broom in Ariadne's arms without saying hello, then strode across the room and stopped with a slap of shoes right in front of Potter. He scrabbled with his homework, for some reason, shoving the parchment untidily into his bag, and then he looked up and his face fell comically when he saw her.

"Cap'n," he gulped, and Gwenog deepened her scowl.

"You," she started, almost breathlessly, "are off my team if you don't get your act together." Was that it? She, Gwenog Jones, Hogwarts-renowned for her castle-filling rants, had expended all her energy just _talking_ to James Potter? She had half a mind just to scream at him, no words, just rail like a banshee, but she was so tired and everything was collapsing all around her. So she left him sitting there with a mouth so wide open he might start catching Hippogriffs, and she took her things back from Ariadne and climbed the stairs to bed.

She didn't go to bed, in the end. Candy Bellchant was draped across the bean bags in the corner of the dorm, so Gwenog shut herself up behind her bed curtains with her worn Quidditch Through The Ages book, and stared at Kennilworthy Whisp's golden embossed name on the front until her eyes blurred. She should get out of bed and polish her broom. She should finish her applicant's letter to Puddlemere United and the Welsh National Quidditch Team and the Caerphilly Catapults because how else was she going to get scouts? She should RSPC to Slughorn's Christmas dinner. She should do her Astronomy essay, hang up her Quidditch robes, apologise to Billie for being a dick, and write back to her mother for the first time in three years. She didn't want to: all she really wanted to do was grab her bat and beat herself unconscious. 

Gwenog Jones was not having a good term.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"So I found this spell that turns your shoes into fireworks, and you know that Prefect Arule? The guy in my house angling for Head Boy? Always surrounded by girls 'cause they love his voice?"

"Are you jealous, Kahele?" Remus teased, and Ozy rolled their eyes.

"Please. Mm, no. I could have all those girls if I wanted them, but that's not the point." You could have anyone, Remus thought, somewhere in the back of his mind. The thought drifted through his consciousness and he batted it away, confused and horrified. He didn't think of Ozy like that, didn't objectify them...he would never compromise their friendship. For anything. Even for himself. He tried to tune back in to listen to Ozy's rambling about collaboration with Arule, but the conversation was suddenly rudely brought to a halt by Professor McGonagall rounding the corridor and staring down at both of them frostily.

"Professor," Ozy said cheerfully. "What can we do for ya?" Remus and McGonagall blinked at each other for a second, and then McGonagall frowned.

"Lupin, Prefects are supposed to be rounding up the students and taking them back to their commons rooms," she said incredulously. "I suppose you didn't get the owl?"

"Owl?" Remus asked stupidly, before realising that it must be a metaphor.

"...which is what we were doing," Ozy said, covering quickly. "I was just...helping." McGonagall wasn't fooled.

"Get back to your common room, please, Kahele," she said crisply, and Ozy broke off with a grumble, turning back towards Ravenclaw Tower. McGonagall turned the force of her cold gaze on Remus, who gulped nervously. "I do hope you're not shirking your duties, Mr Lupin," she articulated carefully, and Remus shook his head.

"No, Professor." She watched him over her square glasses for a second, then twitched her head in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. 

"Off you go then. Serious and dangerous times to be wandering about the castle, _alone_ ," she said. Remus nodded too rapidly to be nonchalant, and practically ran for the stairs. McGonagall was terrifying, even when she wasn't angry.

†††††††††††††††††††††

James was at her side the moment she got into the common room, predictably. She didn't want to talk to him, or anyone, or look at him, she just wanted to go upstairs, maybe lie on her bed for a bit and contemplate all the things that were out of her control. He was talking, and she wasn't listening.

"Io, will you please just _look at me_ , at least," he said exasperatedly, and she pushed him away from her roughly and stalked towards the fire. Two third years playing Gobstones saw her expressions and ran, scattering the marbled balls everywhere and getting slime on the rug. Io threw herself into a squishy armchair, threw her Quidditch robes over the grate to dry off, and began to stare stonily just past James's ear. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he'd just leave. Her eyes blurred and unfocused after a little while, and James became nothing more than a glint of glasses, a flash of white teeth in dark skin, and a large head of very untidy black hair, begging for her forgiveness.

"Hey, Brewsam."

"Get lost," she snapped, not looking up. There was an amused sort of bull-snort, and Io twisted in her seat, seeing with a glaze of horror, Gwenog Jones leaning over her. 

"Just wanted to tell you...ya flew well today," she said, somewhat warmly. Io stared at her, and she turned her gaze on James, narrowing her eyes. "And Potter…"

"Yeah, alright, I quit," he said, so miserably it actually turned Io's stomach.

"What?" Io blurted. Gwenog raised an eyebrow and James frowned.

"You're not kicking me off before I quit. I'm going down with a little dignity," he said.

"I was going to say that you'd better not mess up like this again," Gwenog replied sternly, and James seemed to swell with giddy hope. "You can be a bully, or you can be a Chaser on the best fuckin' team Hogwarts has ever had. I wouldn't have to think it over if I was you." And with that, she walked away, leaving both James and Io wide eyed and confused.

"I thought for sure you were about to get fried crispy, mate," Io gasped. "She was terrifying in training."

"She's got loads on her plate," James said, and Io frowned.

"Gossipy hen, are you? What are you talking about?"

"I know everything," he said with a shrug and a signature smirk, and then he relaxes into seriousness. "Io, I'm sorry. I'm a dick, okay? I know I am. I'm a terrible person and I don't deserve you, but please talk to me!"

"It's not me you need to apologise to," Io replied, her cloud of anger descending again. He really thought her pissy mood was because she was so _shallow_. "Go and apologise to Severus, then Lily, and then I might consider forgiving you. You can't bully someone and then-"

"Evans'll bite my head off," James whined.

"You deserve it," Io snapped back. "Go on. Shoo."

"I already said sorry to Snape."

"Goody for you." There was a long pause, then James stood up with a clicking of knees and a stretching of his long arms.

"Alright, I'm going. See? I'm walking over and I'm about to apologise. Watch." She had been watching, until the portrait swung inwards and Sirius hoisted Tilly up through it with a hand where it shouldn't be and a blush of her cheeks. He folded himself through and winked at her, and behind him, Marlene crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Io sat expectantly as Sirius sauntered over, half ready to just get up and leave. He had the _nerve_ to make a move on Tilly while being in a relationship and locking eyes directly with Io when he was meant to be feeling like the roach that he was for throwing Severus around. Insults ran rampant through her head, idiot, desperate, player, slut, and then she pushed down her horrid rage and locked it away, well practiced from attempting not to scream at her mother. Sirius stopped in front of her, hair seductively messy, a dazed smirk on his lips. He looked drunk. He looked like he was about to do something stupid. And he did. He knelt on one knee, bent his head mockingly, and held out his hands.

"Iona, my queen, light of my life," he drawled. He flipped his head and his hair slid away from his neck, revealing a map of purple and red hickeys decorating his skin. She couldn't help herself. _Snogging_ , while Severus sat in the Hospital Wing and Lily sat on her bed upstairs, close to raging tears? While he was meant to be apologising and doing penance in detention? Io stood angrily, and before she knew what was happening, she had kneed him in the chest and knocked him to the side, onto the concrete in front of the fire, where ashes plumed into the air and settled on his face. His expression turned from dizzy teasing to fury, and Io, suddenly terrified and aware of the shocked silence in the room, ran for the stairs. She didn't get that far, because the portrait hole opened and the hushed quiet of the Tower turned to strict silence as first Remus came through, and then McGonagall.

"Everyone, please take a se…" she stared around at the excited and shocked faces populating the common room, and frowned. "A seat. Please, take a seat. Not up the stairs, Miss Brewsam. I have some very important news." Io flushed when everyone turned to look at her, and she quickly descended the last few steps and took a seat on the floor next to Marlene, who stared at her, wide-eyed. From the fire, embarrassed and flushed red, Sirius glared like a lion ready to pounce. Regret cascaded through Io's system, closely followed by angry justification, and she tried to shut it all away. This was her fault. All this anger that she couldn't control, and now it was coming out in waves. Did he deserve it? Maybe, but that didn't change the fact that she would never want to hurt him. Never. 

McGonagall stared solemnly around the common room to make sure everyone was listening, then pulled a scroll of parchment from the pocket of her robes and unrolled it slowly. Io sank her face into her knees under the intensity of Sirius's glare, and Marlene put an arm around Io's shoulder comfortingly. On Io's other side, Lily glared right back at Sirius, with matched anger, yet unnoticed by him. James was hanging awkwardly near, obviously torn between wanting to please Io and Lily by apologising, and wanting to defend his best friend. The fight hung in a freeze frame, however, as McGonagall started to talk.

"You are all aware that we have had Aurors investigating the terrible events of Monday night, and I am very happy to be able to tell you that the culprit has been caught, and expelled." The rustle of excitement and relief and fear that went around the room didn't match the confusion and injustice curling in Io's chest. They didn't know what she knew. The patterns of the kids obsessed with Dark Arts, Regulus and the Ravenclaws, Evan Rosier, Lucius Malfoy's threats, Pucey the messenger boy. If only she'd been quicker, because now they'd be cautious, their patterns would change, she no longer had help from the boys, Lily was protecting Severus, she was still being threatened, _they hadn't done it right_. Emma must have told them everything she knew.

But then Io caught sight of Mary, her head buried in Alice's shoulder, shaking with relief, Marlene, sighing through her teeth, Lily, pale and glad, Jane and Rio with their arms around each other, Davy Gudgeon raising his eyes to the heavens like he'd been blessed by Jesus, Carson Creevey with his head in his hands, and Gwenog, broadly smiling like she'd never been happier. 

But the next news was even better.

"We have therefore decided," McGonagall carried on, "to proceed with the planned exchange Quidditch tournament with Ilvermorny school from the United States of America." The following cheering and laughing and excitement was so tantamount that McGonagall had to wait several moments to speak again. Io just knew her eyes were wide as meteors, and she locked a gaze with Ellie Spinnet across the room and they both grinned. Her heart rose like a balloon. A tournament of Quidditch! What could be better? "There will be an opening celebration of a Christmas Ball, and the matches will be going on year round. You will all be expected to attend and support, if you do not play Quidditch, and more information will follow on the notice board." McGonagall paused and peered over her glasses at them all, a rare smile on her face. "You Quidditch players had better make me proud, hadn't you?" There was one more round of cheering, and then McGonagall held a hand up for silence, and to invite questions. "Yes, Master Tugwood?"

"Who was it, Professor? Who did it?" The atmosphere went suddenly gravely silent, and McGonagall pursed her lips. Eventually, however, she must have decided that they had a right to know, because she relented.

"Emma Vanity, I'm afraid. She confessed."

Maybe she should have stopped then. She should have let it go, trusted her father to keep Daisy safe and Dumbledore and the Ministry to keep Hogwarts safe, but she couldn't. Not after the promises to Edith and the blood on the wall and Jane's face and throat and the dizzy threats in the Potions classroom and the book that tried to hypnotise her when Deion had pulled it from his bag. Not after the look on Emma's face when she proclaimed those threats on her family. Not after Emma. She may have had no one but herself, but she was too deep in to pull herself out now. If all she had was a light in the Dark, then she was sure as hell going to keep walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That twist surprised me too! Ahaha I'm the worst and I'm not sorry  
>   
> Does anyone want to give me JK's home address and I will personally fistfight her on behalf of all the people she has offended and marginalised and attacked?


	21. Plots and Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marauders are divided and Snape seeks some not-so-subtle revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is filler. It's dumb. But I like it and I couldn't be bothered to make it mean something :)
> 
> I also had to up the chapter numbers a'cause my plan got a little outta control. Probably gonna end up with about fifty, if I'm being honest sorry :/
> 
> Go check out my new FitzSimmons fic, '39!

It seemed like nothing would ever be normal again. Remus still refused to speak to James on principle. Sirius wouldn't even look at Io. Peter spent his days cowering in Io's shadow, Remus would let only Ozy come near him, and James was still head over heels trying to get into Lily's favour.

Deion took Io to Hogsmeade on Sunday and they spent the day eating sweets in Zonko's and chucking things at each other, until James and Peter scurried in to buy Fanged Frisbees and Io pulled Deion into a hasty exit. Sirius and Carlotta sat in Madame Puddifoots for an hour while Sirius glared at the sugar bowl and Carlotta stirred her tea unhappily and watched the other couples around them latching onto each other. Remus slept in the Hospital Wing with Ozy by his side, dreams of dreaded transformations raging through his brain. The full moon swelled on the other side of the world, ready to swing into the sky that night and turn Remus into a hungry, growling beast.

Io was miserable. She didn't want to make the Hogsmeade trip dull and mopey for Deion, but any time that he couldn't distract her, she started to think about the scattered Death Eater ring, Emma's confession, and Daisy cowering in a house in London somewhere, utterly afraid. Curly had returned to Hogwarts, somewhat changed, and Edith was out of the Hospital Wing, but that didn't do much to assuage Io's terror and determination. Evan Rosier. The one good lead she had anymore. Aurors were still patrolling the corridors, just for safety, so there was no way the Death Eater wannabes would try anymore publicity.

_Whoosh_

Io jerked back, confused, but it had just been Deion, whipping his scarf along her arm to get her to pay attention to him.

"I'm sorry," she groaned, landing back in the present, but he just shook his head.

"I get it, you're in a bad place. I'd be moody, too," he replied. That sweet smile on his face made Io kind of want to cry. She shook her head.

"Nah, I'm making this day awful. Come on, let's go to the Three Broomsticks and I'll buy you all the butterbeer you want. Alright?"

"Sounds like a plan," Deion said, brightening. "Question: can you get drunk off butterbeer?" Io pushed her arm through his and leant on his shoulder as they started to walk back to the Three Broomsticks.

"Uh, I think the limit for students is three."

"But not if you're a lightweight, right?" Deion said teasingly. Io raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"No implications intended," Deion replied, sly, and Io snorted.

"Alright, toff. Keep your secrets." They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, until-

"Hallowe'en's coming up."

"Yeah."

"I think the biggest thing I'll miss about this place when I go, is gonna be the feast."

"Aw, no! What about History of Magic lessons?" she teased. Deion made an exaggerated gagging sound, and someone passing by have him a wide-eyed stare. As soon as they were past, both Deion and Io broke into muted laughter, trying not to attract any more concerned attention and ultimately failing as they stumbled through the door of the crowded Three Broomsticks.

"There's a corner seat, look," Deion said, obviously not embarrassed at having rocked up to the Three Broomsticks in front of half of Hogwarts with Io Brewsam, of all people, on his arm. He waved cheerfully at Cameron Kennedy and...oh, God. Arule. Arule didn't return Deion's wave. He just stared at them, straight necked like a damn ostrich. Deion faltered, then spotted Hayley Orpington and grinned at her. Io just knew she was flushing as red as a tomato, and Arule would not stop staring. Eventually, as Deion pulled her towards the corner seat, she opted to flip her brother off and avert her gaze as the two of them sat down.

Once they were out of sight, Io sunk her head into her arms and groaned, and Deion burst into constricted chuckles.

"Bloody hell, why'd you have to wave?" she grumbled at the darkened wood in front of her nose.

"I forgot he was your brother. Lighten up, you said you'd buy me butterbeer."

"How can you forget?" Io said to herself, slipping out of her seat and over to the bar. Madame Rosmerta saw her coming and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow; Io was notorious for doing stupid things with the boys in the Three Broomsticks, like getting Peter drunk and daring Sirius to try and flirt with the dishwasher girl. Io Brewsam was the reason that the mugs all had Anti-Refilling Charms on them all.

"Where are your boyfriends?" Rosmerta asked slyly, and Io gave her a sarcastic smile.

"Taking up business at the Hog's Head to cut your sales. Just got the one with me today," she said, dry as a bone. Rosmerta leaned over the counter to catch a look at Deion, and nodded.

"Cute. What can I get him? Tap water?"

"He'll have butterbeer."

"And you're paying, are you?" Rosmerta reached for a mug and filled it to the top, not bothering to wait for the foam to die down. She slammed it down on the counter, getting butterbeer all over Io's sleeve. "Chivalrous."

"...this is abuse of a minor," Io said eventually, mopping her sleeve on the counter.

"What if the minor bloody well deserved it for dancing on a table and emptying my pub?" Rosmerta replied.

"Butterbeer for me, too," Io said crisply. "And if it makes you feel any better, I got two months of detention for that from Professor Sinistra. She wasn't happy that she didn't get to finish her Firewhisky."

"I should think not, seein' as it ended up all over my wall. You know, every time you're in here, I get a right mind to kick you out. Then I have to remind myself you're one of my best customers, always paying for the rounds. Daddy's money?" She slid Io's drink across to her, and Io offered her a tight smile and took it.

"Mummy's, actually. Cheers."

"Ta-ra, lad" Rosmerta snarked, and Io walked back to the corner with the drinks.

"Had a nice chat, did you?" Deion teased, eyeing her soaked sleeve. Io pulled off her scarf and coat, rolling her eyes.

"Love-hate, I'd say."

"Your brother left, so I wouldn't worry to hide," he said, with some amusement, and Io made a face at him and shuddered.

"Imagine if it had been Darwin. Or _James_." God forbid. But Deion looked at her over the lip of his drink.

"So he's like your brother, then?" he asked, failing nonchalance. Io raised her eyebrows.

"Deion, you have no competition, trust me. Every boy at Hogwarts either wants to kill me or won't talk to me."

"Comforting," Deion said with a frown. "You're still being threatened, then?"

"I said wants to, not actively expressed blackmail to me." He didn't look like he believed her, so she hastily changed the subject. "What are you doing for Christmas this year, then?" She figured it was a safe topic until his face fell faster than drunk Peter down the stairs.

"Well, I usually spend it with my grandma, I live with her. Sometimes Azkaban lets my parents send me presents-"

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Io gasped, utterly disgusted with herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up!" Deion just shook his head uncomfortably.

"It's okay." Silence descended and Io took a sip of her drink to fill it. She really had a knack for messing things up. "So, you have a sister, don't you?" He couldn't have known. Maybe it was all the time she'd spent in the last few months stewing over leaving Daisy behind, and bottling all her anger and fear into such a tight space, or maybe she just found it funny that the both of them had so many issues that they could barely talk, but Io just burst out laughing. Hysterical. Uncontrollable. Deion stared at her for a second as she hiccupped her way through a bout of giggles, slapping the table with her hand.

"S-sorry, sorry, sorry," she blurted, thumping her head slowly onto the cracked table. One last crazed laugh bubbled past her lips, and then she slumped against Deion's shoulder, as utterly confused as he was. "Her name's...Daisy," she managed, and he tentatively put his arm along the back of the booth. Not quite around her shoulders. She'd felt that move many times before, and the attention threatened another burst of laughter. Or maybe crying. Merlin, that'd be embarrassing.

"Look, you don't have to talk about it," he said apologetically, very gently. Io pulled herself together and leaned a little closer; he was solid and comforting.

"I know. We don't have to talk at all, if we keep bumping into family secrets," she offered, and Deion swallowed nervously.

"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning very, very close. "You don't seem in the right place, I don't want to take advant-"

"Shut up and kiss me," she said, and he did.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Look, if you don't want to be here, we should go," Carlotta offered, sounding a bit tearful. "We look stupid."

"What do you want to do, sit on my lap and snog?" Sirius snapped back, folding a leg underneath himself.

"It'd be nice," she replied, just as cutting as he had been.

"Well, I don't want to," he said petulantly. She stared at him for a second, eyes shining a little.

"Sirius, are you my boyfriend?"

"No," he said, before he'd even thought about it. What did it matter, anyway? His chest still ached from where Io, Io of all people, had kicked him, pushed him away. It ached in sync with all the bruises he'd suffered from home, belt whips and slaps and hexes. Why would he have a girlfriend when he couldn't trust his closest friends?

Carlotta sucked on her teeth like she was holding something in, and then she stood sharply, grabbed her coat, and left without saying another word, burying her eyes in one palm. Sirius watched her go bitterly. Surely it was her fault for not asking him before? Bertram Aubrey and his boyfriend were eyeing Sirius sympathetically from the other side of the cafe, so Sirius waited a couple more seconds until he could be sure Carlotta would be long gone, and then he made for the door himself, leaving her cup of tea to go cold.

The October wind bit at his ears as soon as he left Madame Puddifoots, but he hadn't brought anything other than his leather jacket, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stomped moodily through Hogsmeade, in the general direction of the coaches. He and Carlotta had walked in silence to the village, but he was cold and not in the mood to be alone. Maybe when he got back, he'd find Moony… No, bad idea. Maybe he'd find Evans and apologise. Maybe he'd go straight to bed and pretend that Mondays didn't exist.

The Three Broomsticks loomed at him through the wind and the darkening sky, and with a shrug and a thought of a warm drink, Sirius slipped inside. He scanned the room of the pub, staying to the side for a second. He could be good at hiding, if he wanted to: everyone was so used to him announcing his presence that they never bothered to look for- was that Io? Locked onto Vaughn in the corner of the pub like a couple of...of… Sirius searched for the words, confused rage clouding his thoughts. He'd had that just a few hours ago, with Carlotta, and now Io got to be the one snuggling in a dark corner with someone? Unacceptable. He couldn't for the life of him think why it was unacceptable, but it just was. Sirius turned on his heel and was back out in the wind before anyone had seen him at all.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Mary, baby, no offence, but Tomas Broadmoor has got to be the least fit-"

"If she likes him, she likes him," Lily cut in from her bed, where Jane was painting her nails. Tilly tossed her hair over her shoulder and returned to her Astronomy star chart with attitude.

"Alright, but I don't bless it. I just don't. And y'all know you gotta have your boyfriends blessed before you pull, hm?"

"If only Alice adhered to that rule," Marlene scoffed. Everyone looked up, and she shrugged. "What? Do you see her here?"

"Oh, so you think she's off shagging, do you?" Lily challenged. Marlene blinked at her from over the cover of _Witch Weekly_.

"Where else would she be?"

"Wait, hang on a sec," Tilly said bemusedly, turning to Marlene. "Do you know something we don't? Or are you just pulling a sister down?"

"I would never," Marlene drawled sarcastically. "Didn't you know? Her and Frank Longbottom-"

"Frank Longbottom?" gasped Jane, smudging Lily's nails.

"Yeah, the seventh year idiot that climbed our tower and taped a metre stick to it so now it's a metre higher than Ravenclaw's and all the boys laugh about it-"

" _We know who he is,_ " breathed Lily, wide-eyed. "Frank and Alice? Really?"

"Brilliantly hypocritical, isn't it?" Marlene remarked, disappearing behind her magazine. "I mean, if I started shagging-"

"Hannah Gold?" Jane said innocently, wiping green off of Lily's cuticles. "Or were you going to say Dorcas Meadowes?" Silence descended, and Tilly gaped, looking from Lily to Marlene to Jane and back again. Mary, on the floor with her Divination dream diary, widened her eyes and pretended to focus intently. Marlene lowered her magazine very, very slowly and Jane flicked a braid over her shoulder and dipped the nail brush back into the pot.

"How did you know about that?" Marlene said finally.

"It's true?" shrieked Lily.

"You fucked the Head Girl? You fucked a _Slytherin_?" Tilly yelled.

"Oh, say it louder, I don't think the house elves heard you," Marlene snapped, starting to blush. Jane grinned like the Cheshire cat.

"House pride, Marlene," whined Tilly.

"Oh, be quiet. Jane, one of these days…"

"What are you, her sugar baby?" Jane teased, and Lily choked on air.

"So you knew about me and Dorcas, but you didn't know about Alice and Frank?" Marlene said, ignoring Jane's comment. "You been spying on me?"

"Yes, I'm a lesbian voyeur," Jane said drily, and Lily flushed as deep a red as her hair.

"You're getting very brave, Whittle," warned Marlene, and Jane giggled.

"Yeah, Jane baby, shit stirring much?" Tilly said, chucking Alice's throw pillow at her. Marlene was glowing red behind her magazine still, and Lily was shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well, what about when Lily didn't tell you about Gable Flint?" Mary said quietly, tapping her quill with an ink stained hand.

"Mary!" Lily groaned, and Tilly gasped.

"You girls! I gotta look after you! Mom Tilly ain't gone have nunna this secrets shit! You. All. Need. My. Blessing. 'Kay?" There was a discordant mumble of disbelieving agreement, in which Lily scowled at Mary and Marlene glared burning holes through her magazine pages at Jane. Then the door opened and Io waltzed in with the most unusual dreamy smile on her face, flinging her scarf over her shoulder. Tilly, always up for another exciting conversation, squealed like a toddler, and Marlene rustled the pages of her magazine excitedly.

"Someone's got you in a tizzy," remarked Lily with a grin, as Io collapsed on her bed with a sigh.

"Did Deion kiss you so?" cried Marlene dramatically, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. Io threw her coat at her and bounded onto Lily's bed with an uncharacteristically rosy smile.

"Yes. He did. Don't be jealous, Marlene, you'll be loved someday," Io replied.

"By Dorcas Meadowes, apparently," muttered Mary from the floor, and Marlene rolled her eyes as Io coughed in surprise.

"Oh, so everyone needs to know, do they?" she growled.

"Dorcas Meadowes?" Io asked incredulously. "The _Slytherin_ Head Girl?"

"That's what I said!" Tilly huffed.

"Marlene, your standards are in the basement," Io snorted. Marlene frowned.

"No-"

"She's Slytherin," Io repeated, wide-eyed. "That should be enough."

"Maybe I'll pull your friend Lucy next, just to piss you off," Marlene said cattily. Tilly dropped her chart and quill, smudging the carpet with ink.

"You pulled Dorcas Meadowes and you're not going out?" she whispered, utterly shocked. Marlene frowned.

"Why would I date the Head Girl?" she grunted. Io spread her hands.

"Uh, why wouldn't you? Private room? Privileges? Private bathroom?" she listed, and Lily turned a delicate shade of pink.

"Don't be lewd, Io, you're embarrassing the court schoolmarm," said Jane, and Lily huffed and yanked her nails away.

"What about the welcome dance for the tournament with Ilvermorny?" Tilly whined. "On the arm of the Head Girl!"

"I don't think she wants anyone knowing she's gay," Marlene ruminated, returning to her magazine.

"Aren't you bothered by that?" Io wondered aloud, obviously shocked. Marlene just shrugged.

"It's her choice. I don't think she'll be going to the dance with a girl."

"Imagine if she asked you," Jane said, and Marlene sighed.

"I don't need to date Dorcas Meadowes to feel validated," she replied.

"Oh? I was under the impression-"

"You know we're getting ball dancing classes in our houses," Mary cut in, obviously trying to mediate between Jane and Marlene. Io didn't know where the newfound tension had come from. Jane was usually friendly, overly so, and though Marlene was sarcastic, she was never bitter.

"Ha! Imagine Cori Sato trying to ball dance," said Tilly, and they all erupted into giggles.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Severus Snape was never noticed. He moved through classes and hallways and gardens like a pale, coated ghost, and so it was easy enough to move unseen throughout the castle on a windy October Sunday, seeking the quiet huddle of the only people in Hogwarts who wanted him.

Lestrange had combed him out from the bunch of scared first year Slytherins, given him a job to do with a wide, gummy smile, and he'd done it easily, and ran back quick for his reward. Lestrange had smiled even wider, and told him about more jobs. More places where he belonged. Severus trusted the other boy, blindly, wanting a place in something. Wanting something other than the chaos of his home, something opposite.

Yaxley had spotted him eating alone in second year, and offered him a place between the two Carrows at the Gryffindor table, the day after James Potter had stuffed Severus's books down the toilet when he'd done nothing but ask Lily to tutor him in Charms. No one had come near the little group to taunt him, and sandwiched between the grinning siblings and talking about magical, pureblood lines, he'd felt safe.

Malfoy had slipped the word 'Mudblood' disdainfully into a sentence in the near-empty Slytherin common room in third year. Severus had been eyeing the mermaids through the glass windows, enriched with their beauty and cradled in his loneliness, and he'd doubted Malfoy's, Lestrange's, Yaxley's, Black's friendly circle for the first time. Mudblood. He wondered about it, and wondered about Lily. Was she right? Was he right, to be friends with her? He didn't think about it for the rest of the year.

"Blood traitor!" Bellatrix Black had spat at her cousin. "You're worse than Andromeda, the filthy, Mudblood-loving bitch!" Severus had hung behind Narcissa Black and watched Sirius squirm in fourth year, and he'd loved it. Regulus, in his second year, had drifted away from playing chess with Peter Pettigrew, and over to the mermaid windows with Severus instead. And Severus had welcomed him. Taught him all the things to do and say, and had dragged him slowly into the huddle of the only people in Hogwarts who wanted them.

"You're late, Snape," Yaxley growled as Severus shut the door behind him. The latch clicked shut and the wood melted back into the stone wall.

"I had homework," Severus said, barely above a murmur, and Yaxley jerked his head at the seat next to Regulus. Severus sat down, noting the younger boy's sickly pallor and thin fingers.

"You all know that Vanity confessed," Malfoy started, and the others around the table nodded. Severus joined in, a second too late. "But Hogwarts is still full of dirty blood. The Whittle girl is surrounded by friends, the Hornby's are notorious for their spellwork, Aurors are crawling the place, and Dumbledore has a strict eye on Bellatrix and I. Pucey, give me some good news." Dillon Pucey blinked and stumbled over his words for a second.

"I...um...the Morrigan-Brewsam girl doesn't...isn't bothering with us anymore?" He faltered under Malfoy's searing glance.

"Something, at least," he grumbled. "We need to root out the problem. The Dark Lord relies on us, his loyal followers, to do his work amongst the young. We cannot let him down. I need better from you all. Snape!" Severus didn't jump. He'd known it was coming. He raised a dark eye to Malfoy's grey ones, and tilted his head.

"Yes?" he replied, dully. Malfoy spread his hands mockingly.

"Any bright ideas?" he asked. Bellatrix licked her lips like a starving hyena in the corner. Severus shrugged.

"The dance. Subtle. Blame it on someone we need gone."

"Frame someone?" Regulus asked tentatively from beside him, and Severus looked over.

"Exactly."

"Who did you have in mind, Snape?" Yaxley prompted. "Half-bloods? Blood traitors? The Morrigan-Brewsam girl?" The last question he phrased hopefully, but Severus was entertaining other plans.

"I have an idea."

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Io! Io! Iona Brewsam!" No doubt he looked absolutely barmy, standing at the foot of the girls staircase and shouting up like some kind of pervert, but if she was going to forgive James and snog Vaughn and ignore him, then he was bloody well going to yell at her until they sorted this out. She was his friend, and she knew him and understood him and he hoped she loved him in some small way, so he needed them to be alright again.

"What?" screamed a very McKinnon-like voice down the stairs.

"I have her Charms book!" Sirius called back, waving it around like a flag. "And I'll read her notes aloud one by one if she doesn't get down here!" There was a great clattering and cursing, and then Io hopped seven steps down to glare at Sirius with her arms crossed. He opened the cover with a clearing of his throat, and--

"What?" she snapped, and then she seemed to ruffle herself and soften. "I'm sorry," she tried again. It took him by surprise, that angry, fierce Io was so quick to melt. Maybe Vaughn had buttered her up. The thought made him want to gag. "Sirius, I was going to find you to apologise for kicking you, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over-"

"Forget it," he said, interrupting her scarily un-Io-like ramble, and she stared at him in surprise. He shrugged. "I was a dick. I was a dick again. I probably deserved it. And yeah-" he tipped his hand side to side like scales- "it was a bitch move from you. But forget it, okay? Now, I apologised to everyone. Even Snivelly. I want us-" he gestured between them- "to be okay again. What do you say?" There was a pause that was entirely too long for his liking, while Io stared at him like he'd shapeshifted into an entirely new person. To be fair, he kind of felt like that. Maybe detaching himself from Carlotta had been good for his health.

"I say give me back my Charms book and we can go catch some Death Eaters," Io said with a grin.

"Two steps ahead of you," Sirius said, shoving the book at her and pulling the blank Map from his jacket pocket with a grin. "Ready to kick some fascist arse?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean come on. You can't have a Sirius/OC fic without a school dance, some arseholish Sirius Black shenanigans and heartfelt, easy apologies, right?
> 
> Please review it brightens my day and I love every single one of them! <3 
> 
> P.S. If anyone can spot the Sex Education shout out, I'll kudos all your works ;)


	22. Love, Ozy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus transforms. Sirius has serious commitment problems. Deion invites Io to the dance as his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noice! Took me like two days but I'm done!

They spent the two hours before the moon rose poring over the map in the library, each of them assigned to about four kids, tracking their little dots and making notes. Io didn't think she'd ever seen Sirius study so hard for something, certainly never lessons.

She had Rosier, Malfoy, Avery and Pucey, which was a challenge, as the four of them were widely scattered about the castle. Sirius had Regulus, Snape, Mulciber and Alecto Carrow: they were operating off Emma's confession, even if they couldn't be sure how true it was anymore.

Io lazily traced Rosier's little dot with her eyes, the heat of the library stuffing her brain. Someone walked past, footsteps muffled by the soft carpet, and the sounds of pages turning became ambience. Outside, the last straws of sunlight bled from the dark mountains, the stars started to wink shyly in the sky, the Forest seemed to rustle with an invisible breeze, and maybe owls flew through the darkening day, cloaked by the dusk. 

Io's eyelids drooped, her cheek sliding from where it was rested on her chin, and she sat up and tried to shake herself awake. Across from her, Sirius was unfolding a different part of the map, still utterly focused. He'd tied his hair up, at riotous whispered mockery from Io at first, but she could hear a group of sixth year girls whispering and giggling a few tables away. Their chairs seemed to get closer every few minutes, which couldn't be a coincidence, or a trick of the light. Io had half a mind to give them her famous glare to keep them at bay, but she realised it wouldn't make sense. They were under perfect liberty to goggle at Sirius. Even if she didn't like it. She zoned back into the map, searching for Rosier, and frowned. He was gone. Not from her eyesight, just...gone. Off the map. He couldn't have left the grounds, she hadn't been distracted that long, so where had he gone?

"Sirius-"

"Moon's up in an hour, I know," Sirius said out the side of his mouth, surreptitiously checking his worn watch. Io watched him rub a thumb over the strap anxiously and stare out the window at the sky. "We should probably go." He seemed to hesitate. Io stared frantically at the map, still searching for Rosier, and Sirius leaned over the table conspiratorially. "Do you think...what if he doesn't want me...there?" he muttered.

"...and then I dumped his arse. I need someone else, like, why did he have to be so _emotional_ all the time? So I…" Io tried to tune the girls out, and she looked up at Sirius's worried face.

"Don't be an idiot. He would rather have you than be alone. Honestly, he'd probably rather have just you than have James and Peter making weird noises in the middle of the night." Sirius seemed to brighten.

"Really?" he asked. Io nodded and started to fold the map. Maybe she could get back to Rosier's disappearance next time.

"Come on. He's been in the Hospital Wing all day with Ozy Kahele, so we can go back to the tower real quick," she said, searching through her bag for her wand.

"I got it," Sirius said, pulling out his own and tapping the map. "Mischief managed." The ink-lines melted away, the castle fading, and with it, Rosier's mystery. Io frowned at it, grabbed her bag, and made for the exit.

"Hey, Black," said one of the girls from the table. Sirius, lost in his thoughts, only managed a sort of affirming grunt, and Io heard the girl sit back with a disappointed creak. Io grinned and kept walking.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The wolf was angry and restless that night, and as Io sat outside the Willow in bear form, the others small enough to go in, she heard it shrieking mournfully from within. This only lasted a few minutes, though, and she could only assume that the others had managed to calm it down. She was right. Peter crawled out first, and if it weren't for her bear form, she would never have noticed his little teardrop shape scurrying through the damp grass. Then the wolf, folding its long limbs close to its body and emerging from the tree like some kind of Ancient Greek nightmare.

It had scratched itself, badly, along its jaw. Io didn't want to think what that would look like on Remus in the morning. The others emerged, and she fell down to all fours, smelling blood from the wolf, Sirius's fur, the dew on the earth, everything. She loved it. She loved to run and roar and climb and sniff, and she loved the spike of fear and adrenaline that came with sprinting side by side with a werewolf.

The wolf approached her cautiously, like it had forgotten who she was, and she let it sniff her jaw and her leg, and then it turned away and cocked a bright eye at the moon. It seemed to shiver, and then it scanned the Forest and the castle, and took three loping steps past the Willow. They all watched. It was cautious tonight. Unhappy. It snuffled in the undergrowth, stretched its legs, dug its claws into the earth. James, pawing the ground impatiently, gave a snort, and the wolf seemed to test the ground with a foot, before bounding off through the heather, towards the lake. The others didn't wait, and before long, five joyful shapes were racing through the night while the moon blinked sleepily down on them.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Remus stayed in the Hospital Wing that night. The transformation had been tough, and added to the stress of the looming exams, he hadn't been having a good term at all. Io and Peter slipped in after supper and gave him his notes: some in James' messy scrawl, some in Peter's tiny writing, and a few from Sirius that had little doodles on the side to try and cheer Remus up. The boys hadn't let Io write any of the notes, on account of no one but James being able to read her writing, but James had begged to copy her Charms essay out twice: once for him and once for Remus, so she supposed they were even.

She pulled up a chair next to Remus, who had a bandage around his cut jaw, and Peter settled himself on the end of the bed.

"I don't remember last night," Remus said hoarsely. "Did the others come?" Peter and Io exchanged a look, and Remus fiddled with his soft duvet.

"They came, but they didn't think you'd want to see them here," Peter offered. "We went down to the lake, though," he said, trying to brighten Remus up. "Io caught a fish, and James got stuck up a tree." Remus smiled tightly and ran a long finger across the seam of his bandage. Io swatted his hand away gently and leant her elbow on his bedside table.

"You coming to the feast on Friday?" she asked. Remus nodded, and something crunched underneath Io's arm. She looked down; a card, with _Get Well Soon_ sparkling in flower-covered letters across the top. It kept changing colour, with a Charm that Io didn't recognise.

"If I can walk well enough." Remus shifted in the bed and grimaced. "Madame Pomfrey said I tore a muscle in my leg." Peter frowned.

"Ouch," he said. "I've got Honeydukes chocolate, by the way. I'll bring it down tomorrow, and we can read that chapter on Chinese Chomping Cabbages together."

"Who's been sending you cards, Moony?" Io teased, flipping it open. Remus blushed, a stark line of colour change between the sudden red of his face and the clean white bandage. He tried to reach for it, tentatively, but Io leaned back in her seat with a grin and read it.

_Dear Remus,_

_I hope you feel better soon. I'm working on a serotonin-inducing potion, but I don't want to test it on you: maybe when I patent it I'll make a life time's supply for you!_

_Love, Ozy._

Io stared at him, a grin starting to form, and Remus tried to hide beneath his sheets. Peter gasped.

"Love, Ozy?" he squeaked. "Remus!"

"Are you in _love_?" Io teased. Remus snatched the card back, wincing, and pressed it to his chest.

"They say that to everyone," he mumbled defensively. "They're very openly-"

"Oh, God, Lupin. Don't bullshit me," Io breathed, delightedly. "You've got a partner, a _lover_ -"

"A partner for the dance!" Peter finished for her, eyes alight, and Io waved her hand speechlessly as Remus sunk into his pillows, somehow even brighter red.

"I don't believe this," she gasped, hands over her heart. "Remus, baby, I'm proud! God, I've got to tell Lily! Peter, Peter! We have to tell _everyone_!"

"Don't tell Sirius," Remus blurted, and then he seemed to shrink in on himself, embarrassed. Peter blinked. Io, in the middle of a grin, froze.

"You like Sirius?" Peter asked quietly, and Remus burned from red to purple. Io blew out a breath.

"You're not over him?" she asked, whispered more like. Peter whipped around to look at her, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

"You _knew_?" he choked, and Io waved the question away.

"Peter, you unobservant troll," she grumbled. "He's been eyeballs deep in Sirius since he met him."

"I have not," Remus said, indignant, but Io spoke over him.

"-head over heels, and to think you didn't even notice-"

"I have not," Remus repeated, louder, but Peter took notice of neither of them.

"But he messes around with girls all the time," he said, obviously confused.

"And that's on falling for a straight boy," Io said, shaking her head in second hand regret. Remus huffed.

"Not just _girls_ ," he said grumpily. Peter and Io squinted at him, confused. "Oh, come on. Bertram Aubrey? Fourth year? Kane Boot, in full view of the whole Transfiguration courtyard? Takata Hilli, when he was meant to be taking his Herbology O.W.L?"

"I thought they were revising," Peter said, sounding injured.

"I thought the Kane thing was a joke," Io offered, bemusedly. Remus scoffed.

"Revising? Sirius hasn't revised a day in his life. And I know he's one for pranks, but if he kisses someone in public, he likes them."

"Merlin, you sure do know a lot about Sirius's conquests, Remus," Io said with a wink, and Remus rolled his eyes as Peter giggled. Io looked down at the card and grinned. _Love, Ozy._ Really, she was so happy for him. Remus deserved the world.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The Hallowe'en feast was always something to be reckoned with, but this year, Flitwick and Hagrid really had outdone themselves. Each table was draped with spider-web cloths, the candles dripped blood-red, specially cooled wax, the windows had been charmed to show moving pictures of vampires and zombies, and every ghost in the castle had been roped into attending the feast. Huge jack-o'-lanterns adorned the Great Hall, hung from the ceiling, adorning the tables, sat on the floor: grinning madly and heating the room from the fires burning inside.

James, Sirius and Peter spent the entire day jump-scaring every teacher they could think of, and by the afternoon, all three of them had collected a grand total of forty-eight detentions, on top of James and Sirius' half-way-done month for bullying Snape. By the evening, however, they'd wormed their way out of twenty-seven of them, and by the look on Sirius' face as Io watched him plead with McGonagall, he wasn't done there.

Gwenog had been working them extra hard in the run-up to the year long Quidditch tournament, but she seemed less like the hard-arse try-hard she'd been at the start of the year, and more like a Captain now. Io had heard rumours she'd 'reconciled' an argument with her girlfriend Billie Plunkett, a Hufflepuff Beater, and judging by the dazed grin Gwenog had had on her face when she'd been late for practice once, the rumours were more true than they seemed. Io and James stumbled in from Quidditch, late to the feast and still in their drenched robes (it was pouring with rain outside), and Sirius and Peter waved them over. Remus was at the Ravenclaw table with Ozy, and Io signalled to Lily to save a seat for her as she quickly sat down next to Sirius. She tugged on a lock of his curly hair and James craned his neck to smile weakly at Lily. Marlene and Alice saw and both gave him the finger.

"Uh, might not wanna do that," Sirius complained, pulling his head away from Io's hand. She frowned.

"What, did you go back and ask that sixth year girl out?" Io asked, wiping mud from her nose. Sirius looked surreptitiously over at the Ravenclaw table, where the girl was giving Io a death stare, and Io glared right back. "God, you're the worst," she growled. "You broke up with Carlotta less than a week ago!"

"Yeah, and you were all over Hestia Jones two days ago," James sniggered. Io scoffed and stared at Sirius, who scowled.

"What? I'm allowed to get with whoever I want!"

"Hestia Jones? Poor girl, she probably didn't know what she was getting into!"

"Oh, and that's my fault," Sirius grumbled.

"Okay, well it's not _my_ fault all your girlfriends are vultures who can't stand to see your friends touching your hair. You're not her property," Io snapped.

"I got tired of not having someone!" Sirius whined, and Io rolled her eyes.

"Buddy, at least you're not James," Peter interrupted with a grin, and James frowned.

"I- what?"

"Well, you're so busy after Lily, you don't-"

"I could have so many girls," James interrupted, indignantly. Io stifled laughter, but Sirius shrugged.

"I mean, star Chaser of the Gryffindor team? Check."

"Great hair? Check," James said, and the boys smirked and high fived each other. Io frowned.

"I'm the star Chaser." James snorted into his pumpkin juice. "Oh, alright, Potter. Has Gwenog ever told you, 'James, baby, you're my star Chaser!' Huh?"

"Has she ever told you that?" James retorted. Io sat there and scowled at him, water seeping through her robes and into her shirt.

"Ugh, you're the worst," she growled, and she stood and swept down the table, ignoring Sirius's girlfriend's glare.

The girls welcomed her and slid up along the benches to make room.

"How are Tweedledee and Tweedledum?" Alice asked, helping herself to pie. Io filled her plate with carbs and shrugged.

"I don't know, how's Frank _fucking_ Longbottom," she replied vehemently. Alice snorted.

"You say that like I should care that you know," she said. 

"Alice, that boy gets so many head injuries, they're practically contagious."

"But he's cute," Alice replied primly, filling her glass with pumpkin. "And he's funny and he does stupid stuff."

"Cute won't help you when he accidentally Transfigures you into a rhinoceros while you're having sex," Io said, and Clementine choked on her food.

"Why do you look so angry, Brewsam?" Rio challenged from down the table.

"Sirius is sleeping around again," she replied nonchalantly.

"Tell me something I don't know," Lily muttered, and Marlene said, "A- _men_ , sister."

"Why do you care?" Rio asked. 

"I don't," Io managed. She didn't. It wasn't her business. Rio gave her a long look, and Io refused to meet her eyes.

"I'd break up with that Vaughn guy if you're in love with Sirius Black," she started, and Io dropped her fork.

"Alright, I actually do have a bone to pick with you, Calderon, so if you'd like to refrain from pissing me off right now before I scream at you in front of the whole school, I'd be much obliged," Io snapped. Their little section of table went quiet and Rio rolled her eyes as Io returned to her food, face burning with a little embarrassment. 

She looked up, loading potato into her mouth, and past Mary's shoulder, Mulciber was staring her down. Her fork paused. It wasn't so much the stare as the person it was coming from that made her heart do a little jump: Mulciber was square and pale and shadow-eyed, and in the darkness of the hall, he looked a little like the vampire from her Defence textbook. Io shoved her potato in her mouth and tried to breathe properly, and when she looked up again, Mulciber was gone, and she thought nothing more of it.

Deion cornered her after the feast, with much grinning from Lily and a surreptitious thumbs up from Peter. Io glared at them both over his shoulder, then rearranged her expression into a smile for Deion. If he could hurry, that'd be great. She had to go and work on the patterns with Sirius and James in the library. Bollocks to the three sets of homework she had due tomorrow.

"What's up?" she asked.

"You know how we got told about the tournament with Ilvermorny?" he asked. Io nodded.

"Sure. Exciting, right?"

"Yeah, uh, yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "Um, the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl, and the Quidditch Captains, all those people…we need partners to dance with. Will you...will you go to the dance with me?"

"Hell yeah," Io said, with a grin. "Awesome! What do we have to, like, take ballroom dancing classes? Will I get to buy a dress?"

"Yes, and yes," Deion said, looking relieved. Io couldn't for the life of her think why. Like she'd be going with someone else to a dance when she had a freaking boyfriend.

"Really?" she asked, having been only half-joking. "Classes?"

"I mean, I'm not happy about it either," he began, "But we do have to do the first dance. It's a formal thing, like the Yule Ball at the Triwizard Tournament." Io made an exaggeratingly disgusted face to put him at more of his ease, then grinned.

"Alright, then. Oh, it's Rio, I gotta chew her out. See you later?"

"Yes," he said, seeming about to say something else. Io waited. "I- yeah, I'll see you later."

"Okay. Kiss me?" He did, and she smiled at the butterflies that still danced around in her stomach from his kisses, and then they broke apart and she ran after Rio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (kinda disappointed none of you found the Sex Education reference in my last chapter, clearly you don't all watch enough quality British TV programs)


	23. The Arrival Of The Americans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilvermorny arrives and settles in, and the Christmas welcome dance looms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is probs crappy.  
> It's also short and filler but ya know how it is: Christmas Ball coming up next chapter!!

November passed, from Io's perspective, in a blur of Deion and Quidditch and frantic late-night essay writing. Fifth years were beginning to groan under the weight of all their work, and poor Mary collapsed one night over her dream diary, sobbing about bloodied walls. Alice rushed her to the Hospital Wing immediately, and when Alecto Carrow dared to laugh at Mary's stricken face, a frazzled Lily roared at her for three minutes straight, then stormed upstairs and flung herself onto Io's bed, where the two of them ranted all night behind the curtains. 

Luckily, or suspiciously, the nasty group that Evan Rosier seemed to have joined had scattered their patter, and not attempted any more publicity, and Io and Peter spent many fruitless nights keeping half an eye on the map and half on their homework. Sirius didn't seem to give a crap about the homework, and had his nose pinned to the map every hour he could cram in. Io started to feel sorry for him when he began to forget his hair-washing schedule: losing Regulus to the Dark Arts had really taken its toll on him. He still managed to keep up with his conquests, however, as he'd been through four girls in the single month of November, plus a very secret evening alone with Korey Thurkell.

Ozy and Remus got on very well, and although Remus had forgiven Sirius and James for their bullying, he spent more time with Ozy now, sitting in the library with them and scribbling away with ink-stained shirtsleeves. He was around for Sirius's birthday, for the whole day: he gifted Sirius a set of gel pens, and from then on, no teacher received a set of homework from Sirius Black that wasn't written in purple, sparkly ink. Remus also started to join in with the prank war in the weeks leading up to Sirius's birthday, and they all agreed that he had won: he'd pranked each one of them individually, cleverly and meticulously, and somehow evaded the blame for every single one of them. He ended up most of the time in the common room with a tiny smile on his face.

Gwenog had been pushing the team harder and harder and harder, the practices getting more exhausting by the week, and by the end of November, Io was pretty sure she could hear the phrase 'if Ilvermorny or Slytherin win this, I will slit each of your individual throats with Hannah Gold's manicured fingernails, so help me God!' in her sleep.

Deion took her out to Hogsmeade, to the lake, to the mountains even, and once at half term, she sat nervously on the Hogwarts Express with him on the way to his grandmother's house. She was a lovely witch, and she plied Io with platefuls of Nigerian food and heaps of stories from her youth and piles of questions about Io herself. She even realised early on that family was a touchy subject, and skillfully avoided it. She let them sleep in the same room, on account of Io being sixteen, but later at night, Deion told Io with a grin about his extremely stern warning from his grandmother about unexpected pregnancies. They laughed about it, and then he kissed her, and then he kissed her again, and they soon stopped laughing on account of being very busy.

Ilvermorny arrived in style just after half term, in the evening of a crisp December Friday. Dumbledore stood in the middle of supper, clapped his hands for attention, and the hall fell into a confused sort of silence after a few moments.

"I know that you are all very excited about this tournament, this year," he started. James whooped and Sirius howled, and Io smacked them both, and Dumbledore carried on through a smattering of girlish laughter. "I do, however, have to institute some safety and some welcoming attributes into you all." Sirius groaned and James booed and Remus rolled his eyes. "First of all, the Ilvermorny students are here for a friendly tournament between two schools. Any sabotage or ill-advised bullying will result in disciplinary action and perhaps even expulsion. I had hoped that this would already be clear, but given recent events-" he eyed them all carefully- "I felt the need to re-iterate. Second of all, I require you all to join in and have fun. This is a good opportunity to spread your wings, make good friends from across the seas, and have a little healthy, patriotic competition." Io wrinkled her nose. "Therefore, without any further ado, let me introduce...Headmaster Fontaine and Ilvermorny school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" With that, the staff table split itself in two and flung itself to the side, and from the fireplace at the top of the hall, huge green flames erupted and roared, spewing multicoloured ash all over the wooden floor. 

And out strode Headmaster Fontaine, clad in Ilvermorny coloured robes: flamboyant clothes of light blue, royal red, and speckled gold.

Behind him, green flames spurted in all directions, and out ran the students, flushed and excited and all immediately captivated by the Great Hall: some carrying suitcases and brooms, all in their shorter, fluffier American robes with the Ilvermorny crest embossed on the breast.

Then came a short line of teachers in two by twos, with their shorter, rounded wizarding hats and each with a briefcase, presumably of clothes.

"Let's give them a warm welcome," called Dumbledore, and the hall erupted in applause for the guests.

Once it had died down, the Ilvermorny pupil were seated all around the house tables, little groups of them choosing where to sit. Io looked down the table and saw Gwenog staring darkly at what looked like the whole one of the Quidditch teams situating themselves on the end of the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore then announced that Ilvermorny would be housed in the re-done empty Charms corridor and classrooms on the fifth floor, and that Hogwarts would welcome them with open arms.

The eating then re-commenced, and James bounced excitedly in his seat.

"This is amazing!" he blurted, goggling at the Americans sitting a few seats away. One of the girls gave him a weird look and he winked at her and pushed a hand through his artfully messy hair. She blinked and returned to her food, but James wittered on, obviously unbothered. "It's like playing for England! It's like playing in the World Cup! Wow!"

"I heard Americans like British guys," Sirius said, and both Remus and Io sighed.

"I bet you can't sleep with all the girls of Ilvermorny's Quidditch teams before this tournament is over," Io said.

"I bet he can," Peter said quickly, and Sirius made a face between injured and challenging.

"Three Galleons," Io said, holding out her hand, and Peter rose with a clatter of plates and shook it.

"I can't believe you're making bets on me," he whined. "I'm wounded."

"I'm betting you can't because you spend all your time bent over that bloody map-"

"-instead of bent over a girl, I know," Sirius finished lewdly, and Io smacked his arm as he grinned.

"Don't be disgusting."

"Potter! Brewsam!" They both looked around, to where Caine was leaning over Davy Gudgeon's plate, dripping muddy water into his potatoes. Davy didn't look too pleased. "It's like we're playing for England," Caine burst, and James wriggled in his seat. "I know!" he called back, and the two of them spent the rest of the meal talking about scouts and teams and planning for the Quidditch matches.

Io and Deion had been dragged to dancing classes every Saturday afternoon, when the rest of the school were either relaxing in the common rooms or diligently going at their homework, or, in James and Sirius's case, cleaning every speck of rust from all the ancient suits of armour around the castle. Peter had worked out of almost all of his detentions, and was through with them a week into November. 

This Saturday, when Deion and Io turned up to the Great Hall, which had been cleared, there were Ilvermorny students and their partners there as well, and so the dance floor was very full of stumbling people when they got started. The Ilvermorny students there were all sport captains or student council representatives and the Head Boy and Girl: Deion seemed to find it weird that they had no Prefects.

Io had been invited to study with Ozy and Remus once they'd seen her in the library by herself, being whispered at by the sixth year girls that Sirius had snogged his way through, and she had to admit, studying with someone who wasn't James Potter or a bunch of gossiping girls was actually quite a lot easier. She'd asked Ozy if they were worried about bumping into kids who'd been nasty to them at Ilvermorny, but they'd just shrugged and smiled.

"It wouldn't be so bad. I like to think we'd both have grown." Io had stared at them and Remus had laughed, then explained to Ozy.

"Io can't fathom a person who wouldn't want to hex a person inside out for being a bully." And then Ozy told her all about Hawaiian values of _Aloha_ and _`Ike Pono_ : love, compassion for others and knowing, feeling and understanding. Io listened in rapture, Remus watched Ozy with unconcealed affection, and it was safe to say that no one got much studying done that night.

December sighed through its days with crisp, snow-less hours, and soon enough, it was a week to go before the Christmas dance and then the holidays. James, Peter and Remus were going to go home, along with a trepidated Lily, a terrified Mary and all of the other girls dorm except from Rio. No one knew if Jane would be coming back, as she'd been having a hard time: people avoided her like the plague and she had nasty nightmares and ended up in the Hospital Wing most days. Tilly was going back to Texas for the holiday, and Frank was taking Alice to a London hotel for half the holiday, then back to his mother's house. So it would be Io, Sirius, Rio, and Marlene in the fifth year in Gryffindor. The common room would be mostly empty, as no one really wanted to stay at Hogwarts after the attacks, even since Emma's confession, but Io noted with glee that a few of their suspicious Dark Art-y type people were staying over Christmas. She couldn't wait for the ball, and she loved Christmas at Hogwarts, even if she'd have holiday homework. The first Quidditch matches would start in January, and Io was looking forward to thrashing everyone else.


	24. Dancing With A View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas Ball!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m BACK like I never left

Every study room in the castle was packed full of N.E.W.T and O.W.L students furiously revising for the tests in January: nervous Hufflepuffs sharing hot chocolate and books, unbothered Ravenclaws setting off crazy inventions, studious Slytherins coolly staring down the challenge of revision, and raucous Gryffindors forgetting to study and starting food fights with bags of snacks. The library was similarly packed and haunted by a miffed Madame Pince, so Io, Lily, Mary and Alice were bent over their books in the Gryffindor common room on a Friday night as Sirius and Peter challenged each other to see who could run the furthest up the girls’ stairs before it turned into a slide, Gwenog relayed formations to Ellie for the fifteenth time, Frank Longbottom set firecrackers off every time Sirius fell over, and Ariadne MckIlkaine had a breakdown by the fire with her friends.

It was cacophony. Lily had her fingers plugged resolutely into her ears as she read over _Intermediate Transfiguration_ , lips moving soundlessly and her forgotten quill dripping ink onto her essay on Vanishing spells. Io glanced down despairingly at the chapter of _The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 5_ that she was meant to be reading and taking notes on, then screwed her eyes shut as the words seem to swim before her, the noise of the rest of Gryffindor mixing with her thoughts. She wasn’t one for revising. She could never focus, except when she was utterly fixated, and then if she got interrupted, she wouldn’t remember anything.

Across the table, Alice was slumped blearily over her book, tie undone and her hair a huge mess, dark frizz escaping her plaits and cascading down the sides of her face. She was watching Frank with half an adoring eye, and falling asleep with the rest.

Mary was scribbling furiously in her Divination dream diary, pausing every few seconds to scratch out entire paragraphs. Io leaned over Mary’s Transfiguration notebook, discarded beside her elbow, and grinned at the _Tomas_ doodles drawn in the margins. Little hearts and flowers. Mary saw her looking and snatched the notebook back, her little round face glowing with embarrassment.

The portrait hole swung open, unnoticed in the roar of the common room, but everyone turned to look when Billie Plunkett, a Hufflepuff, stormed in trailing an agitated Candy Bellchant. Lily yanked her fingers from her ears and shook Alice awake, and Billie scoured the common room, starting to look nervous. Gwenog rose from a crouch beside Ellie, and Billie fixated on her.

“Jones.”

“Bills?” Gwenog said, looking utterly bewildered. Billie lifted her chin, ignoring the silent stares of all the Gryffindor students.

“Wanagotothedance?” she blurted. Gwenog blinked. Billie cleared her throat, and tried again. “Would you like to go to the dance with me?” Utter silence.

“Yes,” Gwenog choked after a second. “Yeah.” Billie nodded, looking very awkward.

“Alright. Top. Brilliant. I’ll...see you there.” And with that, she turned and left. Still silence. Then Blythe leapt from her seat next to Ariadne with a whoop, and the entire Gryffindor common room burst into applause and cheering, and Gwenog sank into a crouch again, bright red as Ellie slapped her shoulder in congratulations. Lily sighed, almost longingly, and returned to her essay.

“Ever the romantic, Evans?” 

“Bugger off, Potter,” Alice snarled, suddenly vicious, and Io whipped around to see James carding his fingers through his hair, a smirk carefully pinned on his face.

“Go brush your hair, Prewett,” James snapped back, then he turned to Lily and re-fixed his smirk again. “What do you say, Evans? Wanna go to the dance with me?”

“Oh, I would...” Lily started, and James perked up. “...but unfortunately I’ve made a rule never to date twats like you.” And he deflated.

“Bugger _off_ Potter,” Alice said triumphantly, and James scowled at her.

“Evans, come on. I’ll buy you flowers! I’ll leave Snivelly alone for a whole week!”

“Io, tell him to go away,” Lily said, blotting her full stop in anger.

“James, go away,” Io said obediently, distantly fixated on her reading. James sighed.

“Fine. But I’ll be back. You’ll want me one day, Evans.” He left, and Alice made an obscene sign at his back.

“God, where’s Marlene when you need her?” Lily groaned. “She’s always up to hex idiots and get detention for it.”

The fire popped and crackled in the corner, and Gwenog’s fellow seventh years fussed over her, and Io’s eyes glazed over the words in her chapter. She was too distracted. Suddenly, across the table, Alice collapsed over her parchment and groaned.

“Oh, bloody Agrippa. I can’t concentrate!” She slammed her book closed and sighed, and Io pushed her chair back with a loud scrape.

“Library. Let’s go.” Lily made a face, but Io stood and pulled her from her chair. “Come on, it closes in three hours. That’s plenty of time. Alice, fix your tie or we’ll get turned away at the door.” Io shoved _Numerology and Grammatica_ and _The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 5_ into her bag, ignoring the straining seams, then capped her ink bottle and put it in her robe pocket, along with her quill.

“Coming, Mary?” Lily asked, tucking _Intermediate Transfiguration_ under her arm. Mary, still slumped over her dream diary, merely groaned and waved a hand, indicating that they leave, so Io turned to the portrait hole and gestured the others after her. 

They made it to the library with barely a hitch, except when Peeves dive-bombed Alice and squirted her with ink, but Lily soon put a stop to him with a Freezing Charm, and he hung in the air with ink bottles poised and a look of twisted glee on his face.

“He’ll give you a week of hell for that, Lily,” Io said as they hurried away. Lily huffed and slid her wand back up her sleeve.

“He can try,” she replied as they walked through the library doors. Madame Pince eyed them beadily, pausing in dusting one of the shelves, but let them go in. Alice stared down at her ink splattered robes and sighed.

“I think it’s Permanent Ink,” she whispered, scrubbing at it with her fingernails, which got dirtier, but didn’t change the state of her robes except smudge it further around. A splash of ink had made its way onto her face and some of the blue stuff was in her dark hair, giving the impression that it had been badly dyed in patches. “You know, from Zonko’s. Must’ve nicked it from Potter or someone.” Io made for an empty table near a window and set her bag down, then slid into a seat and pulled _The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 5 from her bag_ , flipping to chapter seven and producing her quill from her pocket. Lily unrolled her essay across from her, sucked the end of her quill and began scribbling away with a small frown on her face. Alice stared at Io’s copy of _The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 5_ and blinked several times, still despairing. 

_The Shield Charm is a charm that creates a magical barrier that reflects spells and blocks physical entities. Conjurations rebound directly off it back towards the caster, or in other cases, may ricochet off in other directions or dissipate as soon as they hit the shield. There are multiple variations of the Shield Charm._

_**Casting and effects** _

_When cast, a (usually) invisible shield is conjured in front of the caster's wand, creating a protective barrier between themselves and their attacker. This shield can block and reflect a multitude of spells, such as jinxes and hexes, as well as blocking physical forces. Exceptionally powerful Shield Charms are even able to knock people off their feet. However, this shield is not completely impenetrable, as it cannot block a Killing Curse._

_The verbal incantation for a Shield Charm is ‘Protego’ and the Shield Charm is the easiest of all nonverbal spells. Shield Charms can be implemented into clothing to protect the wearer from surprise attacks, although this is a complicated procedure and can result in magnifying curses if not done properly._

Io paused from running her quill down the page at this paragraph and slowly reached for her notes, careful not to lose her place. She was good at Shield Charms in practice, being a reigning champion in her section of the Duelling Club, but theory had never been her strong suit. Why did they even need Theory if she knew how to do it anyway?

“Hey, Iona, right?”

“I am she,” Io replied, without looking up. Out of the corner of her eye, a girl threw long sheets of raven hair over her shoulder.

“I’m Lola. I know your brother, I’m in his house.” Io’s quill paused.

“Goody for you. What do you want?”

“You're friends with Sirius Black, right?” Lola rested her elbows on the table and bent down, eye level with Io. Lily side-eyed the girl, and Io looked up. She was very pretty: almond eyes and smooth skin and full lips and curves you could see even through her robes. Just Sirius’s type.

“Yeah. What’s it to you?” Io grumbled.

“You know if he’s got a partner for the dance?” Lola asked, playing with a strand of her hair. Io wondered when she’d had time to get her nails manicured like that.

“Girl, I’m not his PR representative,” Io replied. “If you want a snog and an autograph, ask him yourself.” Lola look suddenly very startled and offended, but Io kept going, drawing satisfaction from being a little shit. “Besides, I don’t know if you’re in luck. He’s got an eye for the American girls now.” Lola blinked, eyes wide, then sucked on her teeth.

“Well, you’re obviously not in the mood to be helpful,” she snapped after a second.

“Obviously not,” Io muttered, and Lola huffed and swept away, swinging her hips like an insulted emu. Alice snorted and Lily grinned and Io rolled her eyes.

“You know I have to deal with that every second of the day?” she groaned, unamused. “I might as well set up a booth.”

“Oh, you should,” Alice giggled. “Two Galleons for a snog, four for his bed.” Lily burst into laughter and Io whacked them both with her Charms book.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The library closed at eight at night, and the three girls were shooed out by an irate Madame Pince, as Alice and Io had spent the last ten minutes talking while they waited for Lily to conclude her essay.

“I swear she has something against me,” Alice muttered as Madame Pince stalked back into the library. Io hefted her heavy back, wishing she hadn’t brought her Arithmancy book along.

“Accidents just seem to happen to you, don’t they? Maybe her and Filch’ve been conspiring to get you for something,” Lily mused.

“And Peeves,” Io added. “But it was your own fault you fell in the lake yesterday and set Flitwick on fire.” Alice whacked Io with her bag and chased her up the stairs to the Fat Lady, leaving Lily behind. They arrived, panting and grinning, but the portrait was empty. Io groaned.

“Just our luck,” Alice said, still breathing heavily.

“Just your luck, you mean,” Io replied, earning herself another hit from Alice’s bag. Lily appeared behind them, chatting with a large woman who was moving through the paintings and turned out to be the Fat Lady. She settled herself in her portrait with a fond smile at Lily and let them in without the password. Lily swept past the other two with a grin, who stared at her.

“Goody Two-Shoes,” Alice grumbled, and Lily gave her a graceful middle finger over her shoulder. Io shoved Alice towards the stairs, and she tripped and swore and Io laughed and ran past before Alice could grab her legs.

“Hey, Brewsam!” Intuitively, Io turned towards the sound, then immediately regretted it. Five sixth year boys were lounging over the armchairs, all leering at her. One of them yelled, “Lookin’ fine!” and another wolf-whistled, while the others laughed. Alice tugged on her arm and Io gave them a rude hand gesture before allowing herself to be pulled towards the stairs. 

In their dorm, Lily was lying on her bed, reading over her essay, Tilly was petting Griselda and Mary was already asleep, under a huge pile of blankets while Marlene was deep in her book. Alice dumped her bag by Marlene’s bed and sat on it, and Jude hopped onto her lap for a cuddle.

“How’s our Miss President this evening, then?” Alice asked, scratching under Jude’s chin. Io shut the door to sounds of shouting from the common room. She’d had enough of sixth years for tonight. Marlene turned a page and replied, “She’s wonderful. Io, I think someone’s trying to defend your honour, by the sound of that shouting.” Io, who had been emptying her bag and packing it for Charms and Transfiguration the next morning, paused to listen. The noise had gotten louder, so she opened the door and poked her head round to listen. Sure enough, it sounded as if James was have a shouting match with one of the sixth years. Or maybe all of them. Io walked down the stairs just as James pulled his wand and the entire common room took at least three steps back from the fight that they’d been watching. 

“James, stop!” she called, running to him and pushing down his wand arm, but he shrugged her off as all the sixth years drew their wands.

“Are you this possessive of all girls, Potter, or just the ones you fancy?” taunted the sixth year in front.

“Are you this cowardly against all the fifth years you duel, Flume, or just the ones you know you can’t win against?” James retorted, gesturing to the other boys on either sides of Flume. A jet of sparks issued from Flume’s wand as his face twisted, and then James cast a Stunning spell so strong, if there hadn’t been a Shield Charm there, Flume would certainly have been knocked out. Everyone turned to see Io with her wand out, keeping the shield where it was.

“James, stop,” she said forcefully. Eventually, James lowered his wand and Io didn’t drop the shield until he’d walked away, but his fingers were still clenched tightly around the handle of his wand. “I don’t need my honour protected,” she snapped at him. He stared, and she put her wand away and ran back to her dorm, ignoring the breakout of nervous chatter through the common room.

†††††††††††††††††††††

With three days to go before the dance and the start of the holidays, breakfast on Thursday was packed with owls delivering dresses and dress robes and suits and accessories and letters, and there were squeals of excitement and groans of disappointment abounding over the tables. Sirius pulled fitted dress robes from a package with a look of disgust: they were beautiful and fashionable, but embossed on the sleeve and chest and collar and buttons with the Black emblem.

“That hag’s trying to send me a message,” Sirius said, his face twisting bitterly. “Bitch.”

“Here,” Peter said, reaching for the dress robes, and Sirius tossed them to him. Peter pulled out his wand and Sirius stretched gracefully over the benches, looking over the group of Ilvermorny girls down the table with narrowed eyes. Io tried not to care that he was looking purposefully over her shoulder. She didn’t want that kind of attention from him, right? Deion caught her eye from the Ravenclaw table and smiled, and Io’s stomach gave a guilty flip.

Peter pursed his lips and tapped each button separately with the tip of his wand, brow furrowed in concentration with Remus hovered over his shoulder, and in a matter of seconds, the crest was gone, leaving all the buttons as plain nubs of shining silver. He grinned at his handiwork, and set his wand to the rest of the crests as Sirius surveyed the girls, seemingly unbothered that his friend was trying to help him out.

Io picked at her food, trying to ignore Sirius’s critical glances directed past her head, and soon enough, a distraction threw itself noisily into the seat beside Remus. James, his tie done properly, his hair slicked into a side parting, his sleeves rolled down and buttoned, and his robes arranged tidily on his shoulders. Remus and Io goggled at him.

“Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?” Io asked.

“You look like a blind Walter Huston,” Remus snorted. James paid no attention to either of them and Io noted with horror that he was holding a bouquet of lilies.

“Oh, god,” she groaned.

“She’ll _have_ to say yes,” James said firmly. Remus and Io exchanged a glance as James rose again with confidence.

“We should save him,” Io said, as James left. Lily saw him coming and hurriedly stuffed her timetable and wand I to her bag, getting ready to leave.

“I feel bad,” Remus said as they watched James stride down the aisle.

“Oh, we’re too late,” Io replied, and the two of them watched with barely concealed grins as Lily knocked James’ flowers all over the floor and stormed away with a thunderous expression.

James returned to his seat, slightly wilted, and looked Remus mournfully up and down.

“There’s nothing for it, Moony,” he said, slumping onto the bench and helping himself to sausages.

“What?” Remus asked, looking slightly alarmed.

“You’ll have to prime her. Help her understand that she wants me.”

“No means no, James,” Remus said, bewildered, but James shook his head.

“Moony, you don’t understand. I need her. She’s the only one for me. You have to show her. Tell her how great I am, how pretty.” He gasped. “During your Prefect rounds!” Io snorted into her pumpkin juice and Remus groaned.

†††††††††††††††††††††

In the end, Sirius had refused to wear the billowy white shirt, long ruffle and flowing dress trousers that his mother had sent along with the robes, after Io had teased him about looking like an eighteenth century court lady’s knickers, so he’d ordered a Muggle-like tuxedo suit thing by owl post from Madame Malkin’s Muggle inspired clothing catalogue, and it would arrive the morning of the dance, to be worm under his dress robes that Peter had altered. Io had been sent a dress by her father, after requesting he get it from Muggle London, and he had obliged with a perfect full length light blue gown, inlaid with just the right amount of white gems, halternecked and with lace on the neck and short sleeves. Beautiful for a winter dance.

She spent all of Charms dreaming about the dance and listening to James tell Sirius about taking Hazel Alderton to the dance instead of Lily, and so all of them missed the scornful, scheming glances that Snape was throwing them.

She also spent most of Quidditch practice thinking about dancing with Deion and trying to shift images of Sirius in a tuxedo from her mind, but since Gwenog was heavily distracted by Billie sitting in the stands, the practice wasn’t really worth much anyway.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Friday and Saturday morning passed in a blur, and then it was the afternoon and all the Gryffindor fifth year girls were piled into Rio and the other’s dorm, putting on their dresses and painting nails and doing hair and getting very over excited.

Lily looked incredible in robes of deep emerald green, and glowing with happiness: sixth year Henri Caron from Ilvermorny had asked her to the dance, and since she was a Prefect, she’d be among those taking the first dance, with Io (because Deion was a Prefect too).

Mary had a red, knee-length dress, and she kept spinning around in it to activate the Colour-Changing Charm that would turn the hem a subtly different colour. She knocked into Clementine one too many times, and got sat down forcefully by the other girl on Lois’s bed.

Marlene seemed grumpy, even though she looked stunning, and Io knew she was pining after Dorcas. Not that she’d ever admit it. Tilly, on the other hand, was perfectly cheerful: flying around the dorm administering make-up and compliments, utterly in her element. Jane had taken out her braids and was gracing the evening with her gorgeous natural afro: Alice, on the other hand, had decided to let Hazel plait hers into a complicated pattern that lay close to her head. Hazel was incredible with every type of hair, and was currently straightening Lois’ with a Drying Charm and a hairbrush.

Rio couldn’t tear herself away from the mirror, grumbling that she’d never look good no matter what she tried. Io offered to help, giving her a rare, “You’re fine, you look brilliant.” And Rio turned a plum red and ducked into the bathroom. Io watched her go, mystified, and Clementine and Jane shared a glance that Io couldn’t decipher.

Finally, _finally_ , everyone was ready. The others, who weren’t on the arm of a Prefect or actual Prefects themselves, went downstairs, and Lily and Io spent just a couple more minutes tidying themselves up before they went to meet their partners: they would go in afterwards and start the first dance with all the other students watching. Io couldn’t lie when she said it would unnerve her a bit, but Lily seemed ecstatic.

Deion was waiting for her in the Entrance Hall, among the rest of the students outside who would also be in the first dance: Gwenog, as Quidditch Captain, in a dashing women’s suit, with Billie by her side: Arule, as Prefect, with Wilda Griffiths on his arm (both sedately handsome and grown-up): Dorcas Meadowes, looking like she’d make Marlene melt into a swooning puddle, with Abel Samson by her side: and Alecto Carrow, Prefect, clinging to straight, solid Yaxley and looking annoyingly beautiful. Deion, though.

Deion, muscled and strong, in a deep blue Nigerian _Agbada_ with the front and back sewn with beautiful golden embroidery, a traditional cap and narrow _sooro_ pants. He looked like a king. And he looked right at her and smiled, and Io’s insides got all tangled up very, very suddenly. Lily saw her blushing face and grinned, but then she caught sight of her dashing Henri and made a funny little noise, her cheeks turning red. Io only had eyes for Deion.

He pushed through the throne of students and paused before her, mouth slightly open and looking very, very speechless.

“You look amazing,” Io managed, and he blinked at her.

“I- you- you’re gorgeous,” he said, and Io’s smile widened so far that it threatened to split her face.

Io looked around shyly, and caught sight of Remus: in the dress robes James had given him for his birthday, next to Ozy, who was wearing the top half of a suit, and a long, formal silken skirt that seemed to shimmer magically as it moved. They also had a flower tucked behind their ear, and Remus was looking at them with unconcealed adoration. Then the doors to the Great Hall opened a crack, Professor McGonagall slipped out in green velveteen dancing robes and a witch’s hat, and the chatter died down.

“Welcome, students, to the Christmas Ball,” she said. “You have been practicing for the first dance, which you will perform, as you are aware, in front of the rest of Hogwarts and the Ilvermorny students here.” 

There was a rustle of nervous chatter, and she silenced them with a quick hand.

“Prefects, Captains, and Head Boy and Girl and their partners will have the first dance,” McGonagall instructed crisply, surveying them all one by one. “I trust you from Hogwarts will all represent our school accordingly. As for the Ilvermorny students, I hope you will enjoy the night.” Io heard a few excited American mutters from the back of the group. “The gardens will be opened after the first dance, as will the bar. I ask you to please restrain yourselves—“ here she seemed to be glaring directly at Abel Samson, who’s eyes had lit up spectacularly at McGonagall’s mention of a bar, “—and to respect the staff as they attempt to run the evening smoothly for you.” Io looked up at Deion, barely able to contain a nervous smile. Merlin, she hoped she wasn’t about to trip while dancing in front of the entirety of two wizarding schools. He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed reassuringly, although he looked a little green as well.

“If I trip, we both pretend I fainted,” Io whispered. Deion suppressed a laugh.

“Deal,” he whispered back. McGonagall turned to open the doors and the couples started to form a line. They took a place behind Gwenog and Billie, and Deion held out his arm. Io took it graciously, the doors opened, the line started to move forward, and they emerged into the Great Hall.

It was resplendent. The high enchanted ceiling threw starlight across the room from a dazzlingly clear night and instead of the usual house banners, the Hogwarts flag hung all around the Hall, dripping with sharp ice crystals and frosted with a border of wintry white. The tables were all gone and the floor had taken on a white sheen that looked so like ice, Io was sure she’d slip. Frosty ivy branches curled their way around the windows and the fire threw out a clear, warm light, the hearth place adorned with snow. The twelve Christmas trees glittered with decoration, their boughs heavy with tinsel, massive baubles and a large star winking from pride of place on each one. Mistletoe hung from somewhere on the ceiling, searching the room for opportune places to curl down above someone. Near the back of the room, there were white tables and chairs that were draped with evergreen boughs, and a bar was pushed against one wall, the surly barman outfitted in green and red Christmas elf attire. 

The teachers stood at the end of the hall, all in dancing attire, but Hagrid stood out the most: in a huge brown suit with a large red flower in the buttonhole, wild hair slicked back and less nest-like than it usually was. He spotted Io and grinned through his calmed beard, and Io smiled nervously back.

The rest of the students were cleared back to let the first dancers in with their dates, whispering excitedly and dressed for the occasion. Io felt hundreds of eyes on her and almost felt self-conscious in her dress. Then she decided she didn’t care for their judgement and lifted her head, back straight as a pole, steps carefully calculated. In another life, maybe her mother would be proud of the way she looked tonight. Delicate, formal, beautiful. 

The sea of students ended at the dance floor, an expanse of smooth floor that was a different white from the rest of the it, like ice with undertones and veins of blue water. A little behind, where the Teacher’s Table would usually be, Filch stood manning a round table with the largest gramophone Io had ever seen. Mrs Norris lay in his arms, glaring poisonously at them all with her gleaming red eyes. 

Dumbledore stepped forwards, in dress robes of palest pink, and lifted his arms as the first dancers took their places. Deion placed his hand on Io’s waist and entwined their fingers, and she rested a hand on his shoulder, grinning nervously up at him.

“Don’t drop me,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, with a smile that made Io want to pull him down and kiss him right then and there. Instead, she drank in his deep black eyes, with a magnitude of something so scary, something a little like love. He was warm and steady, and he held her flickering, angry soul and looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A screech, a scratch, and the opening notes of the song blossomed between them from the gramophone. One, two, three. And step. They floated through the masses in the dance, lifted by the notes, connected by the way Deion looked at her, and they spun seamlessly in between partners, moving together, as one. The music swelled, and Deion moved both hands to her waist and she jumped into the spin; it felt like he was throwing her high into the sky, like the feeling she’d had the first time she’d kicked off the ground with a broom beneath her, and he was the steadiness that made it safe at the same time that he was the risk that pushed her into the air. Io tipped back her head for half a second, and the starry ceiling whirled above her, and then she landed back on the ground and she moved back into the steps of the dance.

The music ended all too soon, and Deion pulled her through the crowd as the rest of the students tried their hand at dancing a formal song. He left her at a table with the promise of a cool drink, and Io leant into her seat and grasped at the sky-high feeling she’d had all through the first dance. He struggled away through the throng, and soon enough, the formal music changed. A band had taken the stage: the Voltic Vampires, a Wizarding rock band of world-wide renown. She wanted to go and dance again, but Deion was no where to be seen and neither were any of her friends. That was, until Sirius pushed his way out of the crowd, red faced and grinning, and threw himself into a seat beside Io. He’d lost his dress robes, and was just in his Muggle-inspired tuxedo, a few of his black curls pinned back against his head. 

“Having fun?” she asked, and Sirius tipped his head back and laughed, wildly, breathlessly.

“Oh, yeah. That girl, there. Blond and bouncy? Her name’s Paige Montgomery. Ilvermorny.” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and grinned like a maniac. “She’s incredible. Hell of a dancer.” Io crossed her arms and grinned.

“Slept with her yet?” she asked airily, and Sirius out a hand on his chest, looking injured.

“You wound me. Hey, look. James got that Lola girl from Ravenclaw, year above. See?” Beautiful, curvy Lola was pressed right against James, and he really seemed to be enjoying himself. “Where’s Dee-boy?” Sirius teased, and Io whacked his knee.

“He went to get me a drink, and his name is Deion.”

“I saw you two dancing.” Io snuck a look at him from the corner of her eye, and he was blinking dolefully.

“Did you now?”

“He really likes you. You looked so happy,” he said. Io stiffened. Sirius Black was not known for being genuine, yet here he was, spouting heartfelt words. Io smoothed a hand over the pale crystal on the waist of her dress.

“I was,” she said, and she looked at Sirius, unable to stop the spreading of a stupid, sappy smile as she thought of Deion. He didn’t smile back, but after a second, he looked at his knees.

“Wanna dance later?” he asked, mumbled more like.

“What?”

“Don’t wanna let my girl best friend go without a dance, huh?” he replied, seeming to force a tease into it. “Not when she’s all locked up with her boyfriend now. I’ll come get you, yeah?” He didn’t give her a chance to reply, but just took off into the crowd to dance with blonde, bouncy Paige Montgomery again. And Io watched him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry it was sooooo long  
> Please review!!
> 
> By the way, I can take requests, so if you want me to write anything, say in the comments and I'll see what I can rustle up :)


	25. The Drink Made Me Do It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Ball PT 2!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long!! If ur invested, idk. Enjoy, hopefully!

She danced all night. First with Deion, then sandwiched between Peter and James, then in a tight huddle of fifth year girls, then with Remus and Ozy and then with Zel and Tom and their Slytherin Quidditch friends. And then with Deion again, her chin pressed into his shoulder and his arms around her as they swayed to the slow song, sappy as could be.

Sirius didn't come to find her, though, and she found herself missing him. She saw him through the crowd sometimes, jumping around with James or dancing with Paige Montgomery and her American friends, but he didn't look her way and he didn't make good on his promise to dance.

James vanished for about an hour with Peter, then they both returned and skipped around the hall, getting dangerously close to people's drinks. About half an hour after that, Bertram Aubrey, drunk off his arse, fell down the steps to the chamber below the Great Hall and had to be carried to the Hospital Wing. Slughorn and Sprout then did the rounds, growling about punishments for whoever had spiked the drinks, and Peter and James drunkenly and skillfully avoided them.

Alice and Frank disappeared from the Great Hall at about eleven, Lily and Henri were draped over each other in the corner by the end of the slow dance, and Tomas Broadmoor had ditched Mary with Tilly and Jane, and she was quietly crying in the corner as he linked arms with Nancy Nott and took her away. Marlene had spent the entire evening ignoring her date, Bailey from Hufflepuff, and instead of dancing, she'd sat with a cross little frown on her beautifully-done face, watching Dorcas press her arse against Abel Samson on the dance floor.

Io, red faced, a little dizzy from the drink, and breathing hard from dancing with a cheered-up Mary, sat down next to Marlene, who had her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed.

"Don't try and make me feel better," she snapped as soon as Io approached. "I know it's my fault."

"Don't be a twat," Io panted bluntly, and Marlene raised her eyebrows. "You said yourself she didn't want to go with a girl. If you like her, tell her. Now come and dance, Mary's worried." But Marlene just sighed.

"I can't tell her. She's pissed at me, she doesn't even like me."

"What? Why?"

"Well, for one, because I told you lot she was gay. So she told _me_ that our messing around was just...experimenting for her." She spat out the words miserably and glared at the floor, then buried her face in her hands. Io felt a hot spike of rage go through her fuzzy brain. How _dare_ she hurt Marlene? Dorcas was still dancing, oblivious. "God, I'm such an _idiot_. I even told her I didn't want something serious in the beginning, but she's so...I just like her _so much_." Io cracked her knuckles and set her sights on Dorcas, happily grinding against Abel. "But she said she was gay. She doesn't like that Abel guy, she told me she doesn't like guys. How could I have let myself just be an _experiment_?" Marlene groaned into her hands. Io hitched her dress up over her ankles, kicked her impractical shoes away and stood.

"I'll be right back, babe," she said, letting the flame of fury at Marlene's anguish curl up her spine. Io marched to the dance floor. Up the steps, onto the blue-veined ice. Dorcas saw her coming, stalking her down barefoot like an avenging tiger, and her eyes widened in confusion. 

"Brewsam?" she asked, and Io let go of her dress and punched the Head Girl in the face. Instant pandemonium. People dived away into the crowd, Dorcas stumbled back with a curse, and in an instant, there were seventh years and teachers in their best robes, trying to get between the two of them. Io went for her again and Dorcas tried to dodge, but tripped over the trail of her dress. Io's fist landed on her shoulder and she stumbled away. "What the hell?" There was blood running from her nose, and Io raised an eyebrow in a challenge.

"Don't you hurt her again," she heard herself say. She hadn't meant to punch her, certainly not twice, she was realising. She'd meant to give her a piece of her mind, but now Dorcas's dress was stained and Abel Samson was bearing down on Io with his own fists.

"Stay back," he snapped, and he swung, and Io let him hit her. His fist cracked against her cheek and she reeled, her stomach lurching from the horror of what she'd just done. Dorcas, hands to her face, was crying and staring at Io like she was crazy, then Abel's nicely-shined shoe slammed into Io's knee and she fell down, the intoxication of anger and the spiked drinks fading away.

Someone hooked their arms around her waist and hauled her up from the floor, and someone else looped her arm around their shoulder and they dragged her away, a screaming Dorcas and a threatening Abel getting smaller and smaller. Was she crying? Her face was scrunched up and there was something wet dripping down it, but it could have been blood.

Whoever was carrying her took her down the steps into the chamber beneath the Great Hall, and pushed her onto an ornate metal chair. Very uncomfortable. James's brown, bespectacled face appeared in her watery vision, and then Rio's bemused expression materialised beside him.

"Idiot," said Rio, almost fondly, and James frowned.

"You can fuck off, Calderon."

"Not likely."

"What the hell, Io?" James asked, obviously choosing to ignore Rio. Io wiped the back of her hand across her eye and sniffed.

"She had it coming."

"I don't doubt it," Rio snorted, and James gave her a look.

"What do you mean?" he asked, snapped more like.

"Meadowes has had a beating coming to her for a while, mate," Rio replied wisely.

"She's Head Girl!" James hissed.

"Yeah, and she's a right twat," Rio growled. "Honestly. She treats the shrimps like slaves. She used to be a blood purist, though I think she's grown out of that. And don't you remember when she Charmed Candy Bellchant to have massive fingers for a week because Candy was in her seat at breakfast? Jones went for her and got three month's detention, and Dorcas went scot-free a'cause her mum's a governor."

"She hurt Marlene," Io managed, trying to push through the haze of sobbing and regret. James focused back on Io and put his arm around her.

"Io, you can't go 'round beating people up," he said roughly. "Maybe she deserved it, but-"

"Oh, and you're one to talk?" Io snapped. "You bully Sev Snape every day just because he doesn't like you, and you blast people in the corridors just for being Slytherin. Go fuck yourself!" James recoiled, looking hurt, but Io couldn't bring herself to care.

"The punching was a bit uncalled for, though," Rio put in.

"I didn't want to punch her," Io said miserably. "I wanted to give her a piece of my mind."

"Why'd you punch her, then?" Rio asked. Io shrugged and sniffed. 

"I felt weird. Real weird. Like happy, like everything was good. And that's weird 'cause I was _so_ angry just before, and then I was like I was...I _wanted_ to punch her. For like a second. Then I did punch, then I realised I didn't want to, then I punched her again and I didn't...want to, but I had to." Rio pulled a tissue from nowhere, and Io wiped her nose and carried on. "Then I told her not to hurt Marlene, then I couldn't...do anything. I let that Abel kid hit me. Why'd I do that?" She looked blearily at Rio, who shrugged, but James's eyes were alight with curiosity. He twisted around and took off, back into the Great Hall. Rio watched him go bemusedly, then turned back to Io and handed her another tissue.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Idiot!" Malfoy rasped, turning on his heel and pacing the length of the small classroom. Alecto scowled, hunching over in reluctant shame. Snape sighed from the corner and checked his watch. Near midnight. They were missing their window, they'd got the wrong target, and everything was falling to pieces. "It was the Black traitor! The traitor! How could you mix them up?" He glared at Alecto and she shrugged.

"What's the big deal? 's not like the dance ended. We've got time."

"I don't think you grasp how angry I am," Malfoy spat. Alecto rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, Bellatrix swanned into the room and slammed the door behind her.

"Can we get this little traitor bitch now?" she whined, staring around at them. "I'm tired of waiting around and pretending to care that Meadowes got her ugly face busted." Malfoy gave Alecto one last warning glance, ignoring her wrinkled nose, and swept to the door, swinging his sheet of silver hair over his shoulder.

"You'd all better get it right," he snapped, and then he led the way back to the Great Hall.

Snape, now paired with Alecto to keep an eye on her, begrudgingly set a perimeter. He'd much rather be doing something fun, but he supposed he'd get his moment later. Alecto shoved her hand into the side pocket of her dress and frowned.

"Hey!" Snape didn't even spare her a glance, but she only got more fussed. "Hey, my wand!"

"Shut up," he said coolly.

"No, I'm serious. My wand, Snape! It's gone!"

"Fine. Go and find it, then. Just don't make any more trouble or I will tell Malfoy."

"Snape, you don't understand."

"What is it, then?" he snapped. "Just go and find it, it's not that hard.

"No," she hissed, bending her face away from dancers coming dangerously close. "I cast the Persuasion Curse on Brewsam, remember? _Someone knows_." 

†††††††††††††††††††††

“Professor! Professor!” Sprout turned and James bore down on her, waving Alecto Carrow’s wand above his head like a lunatic.

“Potter?” she said, and then she looked over her shoulder, presumably for one of the other boys. Remus was beside Ozy a few feet away, watching Abel leading Dorcas away, but not looking suspicious. Sprout looked back at James and frowned as he drew to a stop, panting.

“This is Carrow’s wand,” he said desperately. “She put a curse on Io Brewsam and I can prove it.”

“James Potter, please give Miss Carrow back her wand,” Sprout said, inflating indignantly. James shook his head, frustrated.

“Just hear me out, okay, Professor?” Sprout tried to take the wand and James jumped deftly backwards, almost tripping over the hem of his dress robes. “Alright, well, just look.” Someone was pushing their way through the crowd to his right, spectators being angrily shoved aside. James hurriedly pulled out his own wand and yelled, “Priori Incantatem!” Out of the end of Alecto’s wand blossomed one smoky purple word: _jubeos_. The Persuasion Curse. One step down from the Imperius Curse.

Alecto burst through the crowd a second too late, and she and James stared at each other through the haze of damning evidence hanging in the air.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Dumbledore seemed to be determined to give Ilvermorny a good time, as the dance went on as planned, though full of gossip and rumour and shrimps grinning as their tormentor, Alecto the Bribed, was led away. Io sat miserably in the chamber below the Great Hall and ruminated: Deion had burst in before Alecto had been caught to give Io a piece of his mind, and then had left with a cold ‘I’m going to bed’ and a furious expression. Marlene, unable to hide a grin, tried to cover up her expression with a stern ‘I don’t need you to fight for me’, and Mary and Tilly had sat by her side until Mary had heard her favourite song start and they’d disappeared upstairs after Io had declined to join them dancing. She knew she had a wicked bruise forming, and crying her eyes out in front of Rio hadn’t helped her dignity. Now she was sitting alone, awaiting the end of the night so she could get away unseen and wash away her red eyes and aching cheekbone with a nice, long sleep. Everyone would be gone from the castle by tomorrow lunchtime, so she’d have a lie-in, then maybe show her face at the kitchens, take some food and eat it by herself on the fringe of the Forest by the chilly lake.

 _Creak._

Io frowned and looked up, panicking suddenly. She didn’t want to be caught by two love struck snogging partners who’s snuck down for a moment alone. But it was just one person slipping through the metal gates, and she relaxed a little. Muggle-inspired tuxedo and a section of curly black hair pinned back against his head: Sirius closed the gates behind him and rushed over to her, eyes alight with worry.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry I didn’t come earlier, Paige wouldn’t let go of me. Are you- shit, that’s bad. You wanna go to the Hospital-“

“Sirius, I’m fine,” she said wearily, pushing his hands away as he tried to catch her head and take a better look at the bruise. “Serious, I’m okay. Just-“

“Okay-“

“Let me alone for a bit-“

“Sorry, sorry-“

“Okay. Thank you.” He hung back, looking uncharacteristically caring, twisting his fingers around each other.

“Where’s...Deion?” he asked, tilting his head. Io just shook her head and got to her feet, wrapping her arms around the beautiful waist of her dress.

“He went to bed.” She sighed. “He’s mad, Arule is _super_ mad, and I’m bloody willing to bet Lucius Malfoy ain’t happy either.” She sunk her head into her hands. “Je _sus_. Wait ‘til they tell my dad. My _mum_. Merlin." Sirius shook his head, his curls bouncing slightly from side to side.

"You're here for Christmas, right? She'll blow over by the time it's the summer. Unless you give her something else to stew about." Io groaned and Sirius walked over to her, pulled her hands from her face, and made her look him in the eye. He faltered a little, then spoke again. "Trust me, Io, okay? I know all about it. If you need anyone right now, it's me." A few more tears spilled out, and she wiped them away angrily. 

"I'm scared of her," she mumbled. She shouldn't be. She was Io Brewsam: not afraid of anything. But her mother was something else, she could hurt her, had been doing so for so many years, she could break Io in ways no one else could because she knew her. Sirius's face crumpled empathetically, and he reached for her hand, holding it in between both of his.

"I know," he said. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay, she's not here to hurt you, I know." Io blinked away water and looked at Sirius's earnest expression. Then slow music started, loudly, above them, and Sirius brightened. "Hey, the last slow dance." Io pulled away from him.

"Go on," she said, nodding at the stairwell. "Your girl is waiting." But Sirius shook his head, a very small smile on his face.

"I promised you a dance, didn't I?" Io wiped her tears off her bruised cheek and sniffed and smiled weakly. Sirius held out a hand, still holding Io, the other one behind his back, standing straight up and grinning. "Don't think about it," he said. "Dance. Trust me." She laughed, roughly, and he took her waist, pulled her close, and they started to dance together. Slowly, just swaying side to side, deftly slipping between caskets and cabinets and chairs, and Sirius's long form curled around Io just a little. She rested her chin on his shoulder, pressed comfortably into his chest. Step, step, sway. The music from upstairs swooned distantly, and they danced in the ancient silver light of the chamber, safe and utterly isolated from anyone else. Just her and Sirius and the faint notes of the dance. 

He held her like he was a shield against the Dark of the world, and he moved her like he was taking her away from all the hurt and harshness, like he was carrying her to the horizon, where the sun set warm and hopeful, and they were far away from all their pain. Like they were running together, faster than curses and blows, faster than all their demons. He bent his head just slightly, and into her ear whispered, "I'll take care of you. You don't have to worry anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is tagged as underage, by the way, because although Io is 16, the age of consent is different in other places....idk I didn't want it to get taken down for that 😂


	26. You've Been Framed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get serious with the Black family. Rosier's mystery unravels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She returns. Incredible. Shocker. A true Christmas Miracle.
> 
> The silly dancing at the beginning was inspired by Jo and Laurie at the party in the beginning of Little Women because that scene makes me happy :)
> 
> (Yes I'm obsessed with Little Women, book AND film. I'm slowly getting over it. However, i will never get over Florence Pugh. I’m sure you can all understand)

The music quickened and she could feel Sirius's mouth tip up to the side, pressed against her cheekbone.

"You wanna go fast?" he asked, and his deep voice buzzed through her skull.

"Spin me," she said, something giddy swirling up from her stomach. He grabbed her hand, pulled away, lifted her hand above her head and spun her, fast, once, twice, three times. He pulled her in again and she stumbled dizzily into him. The music swooned and stomped and he grabbed both of her hands and yanked her into a silly, romping dance, bumping off priceless ancient mirrors and chests of drawers. They ran and jumped and Io swung her dress back and forth and Sirius spun and leapt like a ballerina, grinning and laughing and breathlessly humming along with the music.

Everything was fast and silver tinted and full of Sirius, and for the first time since last year, Io felt better, safe, like she was where she was meant to be.

The song ended all too soon, and Sirius stepped back from her with something akin to shyness on his face. It scared Io a little. She grinned like a crocodile to stop him, and he rolled his eyes and shoved her away, into an old cabinet.

"Who knew Sirius Black could dance?" she teased. "Oh, Sirius, you've won my heart with your sweet moves. Marry me!" She draped herself across the cabinet dramatically and sneaked a look at him when he didn't respond. But he wasn't listening to her. He was spinning slowly in a circle, palms out, a worryingly serene look on his face. "Oi," Io said, frowning. "I don't know what you're doing, but it's fuckin' weirding me out." He didn't stop. "Siriu-"

"Shhh-" Sirius hissed suddenly, harshly, his head twitching ever so slightly from side to side. "Don't you hear it?" His eyes were wide and pale, and he was smiling, almost happily. Peacefully.

"No," Io said, starting to panic. "Sirius, snap out of it. That's not funny."

"It's beautiful," he hummed, and his eyes fell on the gate to the stairs.

"Sirius, stop!" Io shrilled. "You're freaking me out! Snap out of it!" She grabbed his shoulder to shake him, but he moved, so quick and strong that he ripped himself from her grasp, and he ran towards the stairs to the Great Hall. Io ran after him, but he was fast, even though he had to take the time to wrangle open the chamber gates, and he was gone into the mass of students when she reached the top of the stairs.

"Damnit," she growled, her heart thumping painfully and fearfully. Then she saw a tall, curly black head moving purposefully through the dancing crowd and towards the doors of the Great Hall, people tumbling backwards around him. "Gotcha," she muttered, and dived onto the dance floor.

But he was gone again when she reached the empty Entrance Hall, and the night air from the open front doors was cold, chilling her bare shoulders. Out in the courtyard, couples and groups of students chatted and laughed in the light of the half moon, but Sirius wasn't among them. She looked down the corridor, towards the Grand Staircase, and drew her wand before setting off. Sirius was acting up, and he wasn't the only one to have been compromised that evening. Io would be damned if she let Malfoy or Bellatrix get to him.

He wasn't in any of the ground floor classrooms. Merlin, he moved fast, and the spaces in between the torch brackets were so dark that Io couldn't make out the walls that she was passing. She had an awful feeling she was being followed.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius stopped dead in an unfamiliar corridor, panic clawing suddenly at his throat. Just a few seconds ago, he'd been dancing in the chamber beneath the Great Hall, and now...he was here. Maybe someone had Apparated him? But you couldn't Apparate within Hogwarts, everyone knew that.

"Io?" he tried, but it came out hoarse and scared. "Io, are you there?" One of the torches on the wall was out and cold, a patch of darkness creeping into that section of corridor. Sirius scrambled for his wand and gripped it, tight, swinging round to point it first down one end of the corridor, then the other. Back again. Back again. He was suddenly aware of how fast he was breathing, how scared he was becoming. He'd been dancing...then...that _sound_. Beautiful. Melodic. He had practically tasted the notes, sweet and honeyed.

Sirius pressed his back against the cold wall and tried to breathe normally, still twitching his wand up and down the corridor. Someone had led him here, purposefully.

“Hey, girlie.” Sirius’s blood turned thick and cold in his veins, thrumming loudly through his body. Bella. Around the corner, her voice was issuing through the chilly castle air, and Sirius crept in its direction, wand held tight in his fist.

“Leave me alone,” snapped someone else, a fierce, stupid shout. No one shouted at Bella Black. Sirius slid around the corner, and there stood Lily Evans, still in her beautiful emerald dress, facing down Bella, Lestrange, Mulciber, Avery. This was in no way a fight Evans could win, and Sirius would be damned if he stood there and let Bella pick off Evans as her latest Muggle-Born conquest. He stepped out, around the corner, up to Evans’ shoulder, and levelled his wand straight at Bella’s strong nose. Bella looked only mildly inconvenienced, and at the worst, a little pleased. Sirius scowled his blackest scowl and Mulciber and Avery drew their wands as well.

“Back off, Bella,” Sirius growled, the thrill and anticipation of a fight seizing his bones. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but by damn Agrippa he’d give them something to send them scurrying back into their slimy common room.

“Sirius,” Bella said, her voice so high it trilled like a sadistic song. “ _Cousin_. What a surprise. We were just...looking for you.” And she smiled. If he hadn’t been so lock-kneed and ready to fight, Sirius would have shivered at that snakelike appropriation of a grin. Evans trembled bravely next to him, white faced and staring Bella down with narrowed eyes.

“Get outta here, Evans,” Sirius mumbled.

“No,” Evans snapped back, scrabbling for her own wand.

“Damnit, go!” Sirius growled. 

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Strangely loyal very quickly, isn’t she, Sirius?” crooned Bella. “How’s little Sev, Lily dearest? Still best of friends?”

“She’s gonna hurt you, Evans.”

“Let her.”

“Merlin, what’s wrong with you? Go!” He looked down at her, and he knew his eyes were wide and crazy, but Evans shook her head stubbornly.

“Families can be tough, can’t they, Lily?” Bella laughed. “She knows, Sirius...”

“Shut the hell up!” Sirius exploded, and purple sparks shot suddenly from the end of his wand. Bella gave a little, theatrical squeak, and then a giggle, her huge dark eyes promising nothing but insanity. “Evans,” Sirius tried, getting himself under control. “Go, or I’ll get James to send you Valentine’s chocolates every day for the rest of your life.” She looked at him, and he nodded, slowly. “I’ve got it. Please, for the love of a hundred fucking Hippogriffs, get out of here.” And without further ado, Evans pocketed her wand, turned tail, and ran.

†††††††††††††††††††††

WHAM! He missed. Perring Unctus fell back behind a statue of a gargoyle as Brewsam turned, wand in hand, and shot a Stunning Spell right at him. It hit the gargoyle’s head and blew it right off with a cloud of pebbles and sparks, throwing dust all over his head. Perring coughed and choked and, through the cloud of vaporised stone, fired off three hexes in quick succession. He heard all of them hit the stone wall and cursed under his breath. The dust wavered in the still, dark air.

“Come on,” Brewsam taunted. “Let’s go!” She sounded scared, and wary, and Perring grinned. Let her fear him, for just a second, as he crouched unseen behind the headless gargoyle. Rowle emerged from the intersection, nothing more than a shadow behind Brewsam’s shoulder, and Perring squinted, ready to see the arrogant bitch get her arse handed to her. Somehow, somehow, though, she heard him, and she twisted out of the way just as Rowle threw a Petrificus Totalus at her head. It soared past her ear, and Perring dived out of the way, into the open corridor. Brewsam saw him and seconds later the ground by his knee exploded. Perring ran for the safety of the other gargoyle on the opposite wall, but before he got there, a Trip Jinx wrapped itself maliciously around his ankles and he fell, graceless, to the stone floor.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Brewsam raise her wand with a look of terrible glee on her face, but before she could, Rowle drew back his wrist and flicked a curse full force at her back. BOOM. It hit a sudden Shield Charm, rebounded off, and carved a fridge-sized chunk of rock out of the ceiling that fell to the floor. Brewsam staggered back, and as Rowle was recovering, hands over his eyes to shield from the spray of stone shards, she fired three yellow curses at him through the haze of dust. Two of them hit home, and Rowle roared in pain and stumbled backwards, clawing at his chest and his stomach, teeth clenched and coughing up dust. Brewsam staggered backwards, wearily, and Perring wriggled from the Trip Jinx. Before he could do anything, however, Yaxley thundered around the corner with a roar of rage and blew Brewsam right off her feet with a spectacular Stun. She hit the wall and dropped, unconscious, and Yaxley fell to his knees beside Rowle, who was seizing up, blood and spit frothing at the side of his mouth. 

“Merlin, no,” Yaxley rumbled, gripping his wand tightly, helplessly, digging away chunks of rock that were trapping Rowle’s legs. “Finn, come on!”

“Cast the Clearing Spell,” Perring panted, still valiantly trying to free himself. Yaxley did so, shakily, and Rowle coughed, spat and fell asleep. Yaxley shoved his muscular arm under Rowle’s head, still trembling with frightened rage, and he looked over at Brewsam’s prostate body and bared his teeth.

“I’m going to kill her,” he promised, a low sound, a solid threat. Perring finally kicked away the remnants of the jinx and pulled himself to his feet, brushing dust from his old dress robes.

“You do that,” Perring grunted. “But we gotta get her out of here. Get Rosier.”

“I’m here.” Yaxley and Perring looked right around, and Rosier appeared from the mist of dust, carefully weaving his brightly polished shoes around the crumbling bits of ceiling. Something cracked above him, and he stepped to the side, bringing up a hand to smooth over his side part, just to check it was still perfect. Perring would have sneered at his vanity if they weren’t quickly running out of time.

“Where the hell were you?” Yaxley snarled. “Finn almost died while you were fixing your goddamn cuff links!”

“Leave it, Yaxley,” Perring warned, stepping across to the corridor towards Brewsam’s body and carelessly rolling her over. “We don’t have the time to fight among ourselves.” He tucked an arm under Brewsam’s torso and hauled her onto his shoulder: she was heavy for a small girl, but maybe it was her ego weighing her down. Or her sins. Or her dirty veins. “Evan, where are we going?” Rosier looked at him, then at Yaxley tenderly pushing Rowle’s hair from his face.

“You want to kill her,” he stated. Ever so soft spoken. It really pissed Perring off. Why couldn’t Rosier just do what he was told.

“Yes,” Yaxley growled. Rosier turned to Perring.

“And you?”

“I don’t give Grindelwald’s left bollock what you want to do with her-“

“Don’t use his name like that,” Rosier interrupted gently.

“-she’s heavy and we’ve got about thirty seconds before some idiot Prefect comes running! Yaxley, fix the ceiling and get Rowle out, and Evan, let’s fucking go!” Rosier blinked, smoothing a wave of dark hair away from his square forehead with his delicate hand.

“A Memory Charm would be more prudent,” he said.

“Well, let’s argue on the way!” Perring hissed. Finally, fucking finally, Rosier deigned to move, and he started to lead the way, at a brisk, orderly pace, down the corridor.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io woke, or just about, slung unceremoniously over someone’s wide shoulder. She tried to blink, but her eyelids were stuck a quarter-open, and all she could see was the unmistakeable sharp suit of Evan Rosier, and his slicked side part, marching in an orderly fashion, upside down to her. _Aha!_ she thought, but even her thoughts were slurred, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she wanted to be in the presence of Evan Rosier. Her brain wanted her to give up, to fall back asleep on this uncomfortable shoulder, and let herself be hauled about.

So she did.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius didn’t remember much after Evans disappeared in a flash of red and green. He remembered flying curses, a haze of spell-smoke, and a fury driving him to knock Bellatrix off her feet. But that was about it, and then everything was a little dull and a little grey.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Something cold and wet seeped through the bodice and skirt of Io’s dress, jerking her back to her half awake state. Spongy. Soggy. Her head was awkwardly shoved against a rock, and she lay in the damp, flickering eyelids turning a blackened canopy into a pretty little shaded show.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius woke with blood in his mouth and something sticky on his hand. His head thudded and he groaned, rolling painfully onto his side. Everything ached, bones in his rib cage, the muscles in his legs, the bridge of his nose, the inside of his throat. Writing. Not more hell-damned writing. On the floor, by his hand. His hand, the entirety of which was soaked in ink. Suddenly panicked, Sirius heaven himself to his knees, trying to focus on the wobbly letters, the inked proclamation of... _Toujours Pur. S.O. Black_

“No,” Sirius said, his voice creaking with pain and marred by the blood on his tongue. “Oh, please, no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't get the title of this, then I KNOW you don't watch enough quality British TV. You've Been Framed was my childhood.
> 
> P.S. Unrelated, but I would let Charlize Theron step on me. Disagree? Let me know and I'll fight you on it. ❤️ The Old Guard
> 
> Feedback would be appreciated x


	27. The Forbidden Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius finds himself in a tight spot, and Rosier's mystery just gets more confusing. Io is in a tighter spot, but is found by an unlikely saviour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back sorryyyyy,,,,,,it was a cliffhanger and I took so long UGH I was busy somehow but I'm,,, never busy?? Like what,,I'm the worst
> 
> Unrelated: So I know the notes of a HP fic isn't really the place for a rant, but Leicester lockdown? Like??? They're telling Muslims they can't celebrate Eid properly, but then pubs aren't being shut down??  
> Oh, sure, Muslims aren't allowed their religious holidays, but you can go have a beer if ya feel like it!!
> 
> Correct me if I'm wrong abt it, but I'm super pissed.
> 
> Also Craig Whittaker, blaming the BAME community for the coronavirus??? Can he be,,,,,oh, idk, FIRED?!

She'd never heard a silence quite so absolute, and so when she woke, Io was quite sure she'd gone both blind and deaf. But no, there was a star, winking at her from a tiny window in the thick canopy as she lay, unable to move, in the Forbidden Forest. There was a rock on her leg. Soil packed around her shoulders, over her neck, and heavy stones weighing down her stomach. Her fingers were fixed in mud, and that was when she started to panic.

 _Buried alive_. She tried to breathe deeper, but her chest was weighed down, and all she succeeded with was a ragged gasp. She tried to thrash and twitch, but she was firmly, solidly embedded in the ground, with only her face above. Why had they left her here? Were they hoping she'd be bumped off by one of the creatures in the Forest? Her wand was gone too, and she hadn't yet mastered transforming without it. Io tried her voice, but it was nothing but a hoarse grunt, and she tensed her muscles and wriggled and gasped for air, but got nothing except fear and the shake of wearing-off adrenaline. 

There were tears on her face, something coppery and warm in her mouth. She was going to die, alone, buried deep in the Forbidden Forest.

"Help," she squeaked, but all that came out was air.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Professor," Sirius panted. His ribs were aching and squeezing his lungs, stabbing his chest with pain. "You have to believe me. I would never." McGonagall stared down at him, wand in hand and a horrified expression on her face. 

"Black," she managed, and it was cracked and whispered. She tried again. "Black. You know I can't just dismiss this."

" _Please_ , Professor," Sirius wheezed. "I'll tell you everything. Please, I swear it wasn't me." Maybe it was the break in his voice that did it, or the blue bruise beneath his eye. Or maybe it was a history. McGonagall raised her wand, and as Sirius flinched away expectedly, she muttered " _Tergeo_ ," and the ink slid away, dissipated into the air, the damning message disappearing.

"My office," she instructed, her words quivering, stern. "Now. Before anyone else appears." And she turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Sirius gaping after her, before he hauled himself painfully to his feet and started to limp along in her wake.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io coughed on tears and saliva and something that could have been blood, and sobbed out one last, muffled plea for help. It materialised as a pitiful puff of steam in the cold, dark mist of the Forest. 

It had been a long time since she'd woken up. Hours, maybe. The star that had winked at her through the canopy had long since moved on, the dark was even more absolute, and the only sound was her own weak begging for help that wouldn't come. 

She'd already used all her terror and frustration, trying to thrash her frozen body about and break through the deep-packed earth, and she'd tried for hours, but to no avail. Not even her deepest ingrained emotion, her longest-standing, low-burning anger had saved her. She was a dead girl in a silent grave.

There was a ruffle of sound, sudden, to her left, and Io became very, very still. This was the Forbidden Forest. She'd probably attracted any number of bloodthirsty creatures with her screaming. But this rustling thing wasn't bloodthirsty. It seemed almost shy, just skittering around in the edge of her vision, and Io tried to turn her head to see, but in vain. There was a glow of white, and that was all she could see, in the side of her eye, a gentle sigh of light in the darkness of the Forest.

"Hello?" she whispered. Nothing but stillness. And that ever-present glow of white.

A rustle, and a snuffle, and Io froze, squeezed her eyes shut, held her breath. If she was utterly still, maybe it would leave her alone. She felt it step closer. Four legs. Shy, cautious, curious. It was very close now, so close that she could feel warmth coming from it, but not a predatorial, hungry warmth. A comfort. Like the hot fur of Jude's belly as he stretched out on her bed. Like the cloak of Sirius's hair hanging over her cheek as they danced together.

Something velvety was pushed onto her cheek, and a hard foot kicked at the cold earth packed over her arm. She didn't dare open her eyes. It pushed harder, squishing her nose, shoving a large, warm snout into her closed eyesocket, and it kicked at the earth. Hooves? Her heart hammered. She wanted to scream, push it away, lash out, save herself. But she was still stuck. The snout snuffled, huffing hot hair onto her frozen face, and something raspy, wet and warm flicked over her cheek. Something's _tongue_. God, it was going to eat her. Its hoof was still kicking, and the earth was loosening over her arm and her hip, cracking up, crumbling. She could move her fingers, her elbow, her shoulder, her torso. One. Two. Three. Io wrenched herself free, rolled to the side, and scrambled away, and the creature skittered backwards nervously. Her legs gave out and she crumpled, trying to drag herself away, and she looked over her shoulder and her jaw dropped.

The little unicorn blinked at her with night-black eyes. Io, muscles trembling, fatigued and frozen, spat dirt onto the leafy floor, and blinked eight times to make sure she was seeing right. A _unicorn_. A little foal. Long, gangly legs, those hard hooves, that whiskery, velvety snout. Gently, brightly white, shining against the terror-dark of the Forest.

"Hi," she breathed, hoarsely. Its nostrils flared. Legs akimbo, trembling, knobbly knees, ready to charge or run. Knobbly knees like James. Io couldn't help it. She grinned with her tired face, her aching, weighted ribs started to heave, and she began to laugh. Saved by a _unicorn_. How ridiculous. She bent her head, weakly supporting herself with her elbows, and wheezed and giggled. The night was still cold, and what was left of her ragged dress was stirring in a slight, chilled breeze.

The unicorn tilted its head and she realised what a sight she must look: dirty, weak, giggling like a mad creature. 

"Go on," she huffed. "Go on, go. You've done enough." It stared at her. Unicorns were hunted by a multitude of creatures in the Forest, and a kid like this one wouldn't survive much longer if it didn't learn to bolt. "Boo!" she yelled, and the unicorn skittered, skidded, turned tail and fled, leaving her all alone. She shivered. The hem of her dress was in muddy, bloody tatters, and there were scrapes and scratches all over her skin. She was alive, but barely able to walk, and very, very lost.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io and Sirius were gone. James was frantically searching the whole castle with Peter in tow, Ozy was being accosted by their old Ilvermorny friends, and Remus had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Come on, Mack! Give us a twirl!"

"Hell, dude. A skirt? Really?" said one. Ozy looked down at the floor.

"I like to dress how I want," they replied tepidly, obviously trying to diffuse the situation.

"You got a boyfriend, then, Mack? This your boyfriend?" A small girl was gesturing maliciously at Remus, and Ozy folded their hands into their jacket. Remus knew his own face was red and calm with anger, but none of the kids had recognised it yet.

"Mack, my guy, you're not a goddamn _girl_ , so you gotta be a boy-"

"Their name is Ozy!" Remus snapped, finally. " _Their_ name. That's their name, and you should either fucking use it and give them some respect, or I'm gonna hex you all. Now get the hell out of here!" The kids stared back at Remus, who offered them all a poisonous glare. Ozy was shaking beside Remus's shoulder, twisting their jacket between their fingers.

"The hell're you getting into it for?" taunted the small girl. " _Are_ you his boyfriend?"

"I am _their_ boyfriend," Remus growled, and the surrounding crowd whooped and laughed. Ozy was now a burning red, and Remus stepped in front of them.

" _They_?" hollered a boy with thick hair. "That's fuckin' plural, you bender! Doesn't even make any fuckin' sense!" The group squealed with more laughter, and Remus whipped out his wand and everything went silent. They all looked at each other. Ozy bent their head.

"Remus, don't," they muttered.

"What are ya gonna do with that, boyfriend?" sneered another boy.

"Don't," Ozy pleaded, and reluctantly, Remus lowered his wand. "I don't care that you won't use my pronouns," they started. The small girl sniggered, and Ozy ignored her. "I don't care that you're ridiculing my clothing. I hope you find a peace of mind that doesn't drive you to bully someone else just because they make you insecure." The group looked around at each other, unsure expressions appearing.

"Snowflake," someone grumbled. They'd obviously been hoping for a more violent reaction, and the small girl opened her mouth to say something again, but before she could, Ozy latched onto Remus's sleeve and dragged him through the group and from the Great Hall.

"I would have fought them all for you," Remus growled, tripping gracelessly over his own feet as he stared back down the corridor to make sure the group weren't following them. Ozy sighed, but their cheeks were creased in a smile.

"I know you would." Ozy looked at Remus, and his inside started to tie themselves in knots with that gaze. His heart beat a little faster. And then they stepped back to the wall, pulling Remus with them, curled their fingers into the lapel of his robes, bent their head, and kissed him. Everything exploded with joy and a flower-like warmth blooming within him, and Remus held Ozy by the waist and kissed them back, his face splitting in a smile that broke their kiss slowly. Ozy pulled away with a long breath, and their eyes, so black and deep and full of something beautiful, froze Remus right where he was. What did he say? What did you say when you kissed someone? Remus floundered for a second, that stupid smile still on his face, and then running footsteps from somewhere beyond the two of them, somewhere back in the worse, real world, brought him out of his Ozy-trance. Remus whipped around and Lily Evans burst around the corner, hair in a frenzy and eyes wild, so wild she didn't even stop to comment on the lack of space between Ozy and Remus. 

"Black," she panted, and Remus noticed that she had her wand out, and his heart dropped. "Bellatrix. She's got...come on." And without stopping to explain, she whirled on her heel and took off again down the corridor.

†††††††††††††††††††††

She stumbled through the dark for what seemed like hours, tripping over her ragged dress and stubbing her numb, frozen feet, but she was lost. The Forest was vast and black and terrifying and utterly without features, and every time Io heard a rustle from the invisible undergrowth, she tightened her bleeding hands into fists and squashed the fear. 

"Brewsam?" She must have imagined it. Half-conscious, stumbling through the dark, out of her mind with fear, it had to have been a hallucination. That couldn't have been an upright figure, holding a light, springing through the tree trunks, knees high above the thorns on the ground. The air was misty, the light made it so. And then Evan Rosier was right in front of her, the light casting a white sheen on his broad, sharp face. He looked worried. Had he come to kill her? Her brain worked too slow, and so at first, she stared for a good few seconds. And then she swung for him, a sloppy, weak hit that crashed into his throat and sent him reeling back a little. Only a little. Io kicked out, a hoarse, screaming grunt ripping itself from her throat. She wouldn't die tonight. She wouldn't. "Hey!" he yelled, slapping her ineffective blows aside. "I'm trying to help, stop!"

"You tried to fucking bury me!" Io roared, and she barrelled into them and they both tumbled to the ground. Io reached for him with clawed, lashing hands, and Rosier wriggled out from beneath her, kicked her away. He hit her, backhand to the face, and Io fell, suddenly weak and exhausted.

"Full of fire and grit, aren't you?" he huffed, scrambling backwards. "No wonder no one wants to cross you."

"Get the fuck away from me," Io gasped, barely able to move.

"I'm taking you back to the castle," Rosier said. "And then I'll explain everything. I'm not..." But Io never found out exactly what he was not, because her vision dimmed and blackened and faded to nothing.

She woke in the Hospital Wing. Clean, white ceiling. No mud. No dark. No unicorns. But there was an Evan Rosier, slumped untidily in the chair beside her bed, leaves in his smart hair, his dress robes torn and dirty. There was a bruise on his throat that was fading, and a scratch on his cheek that Io savagely recognised as a slash from her own fingernail.

"Good morning," he said, very properly.

"Go fuck yourself," Io mumbled. She was dazed, exhausted.

"I just saved your skin, Brewsam," he replied, picking dirt from his fingernails. "And I told the Aurors everything." Io's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Perring Unctus has been expelled. Yaxley got away with it, though, and so did Rowle. Courtesy of important parents, I suppose." Io blinked at him, utterly thrown.

"And I guess you missed out your own involvement, huh?" she snapped finally.

"I told the Aurors you were in no state to talk to them. Madame Pomfrey agreed."

"Fuckin' hell," Io growled. Rosier observed her with large, pale eyes.

"Do you want to know everything, or not?" he asked. She swallowed. It burnt her throat.

"Yes," she croaked. Rosier sat back, a little smugly.

"I thought you would. Allow me to explain." And explain he did. According to Rosier, he'd been in and out of the castle over the past term by a few secret passages, delivering messages to the outside world: the growing supporters of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and that was where Malfoy and Pucey where getting their information on people's families. Rosier had been deflecting suspicion from Muggle-born or sympathising families, so that casualties were kept to a minimum, and so far he had infiltrated the Death Eater clan at Hogwarts successfully. He had come back for Io, and argued against burying her alive, and now he was sure he would be stared down by Yaxley at every meeting. But he didn't explain the intricacies of the circle, or the meeting places or their new plans or why Emma Vanity had confessed, and although Io had relaxed in his presence, she was still suspicious. 

Evan Rosier was a conundrum and a half, and it didn't help that he'd ruined her dress.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The Aurors had been busy when McGonagall had called for them, and so Sirius had fallen into a fitful, worried doze on the cushy chair by McGonagall's office fireplace for about an hour. Then the older one, Moody, had come rushing in to the office, limping slightly, with a cross, harried look on his face.

Sirius had told them everything. It had just fallen out of his mouth, word after word, from Bellatrix to Evans to the message. He managed to keep back Io's investigation and the book Regulus had been found with, but Moody definitely saw past him. He made notes with a grumpy expression, scowling every time Sirius stuttered, and when Sirius finished, Moody gave him a long look, then tucked the notebook into his robes.

"We found your friend, Master Black," he grunted, and Sirius sagged in relief, knowing it was Io. "We've had the attacker expelled, but I'm afraid I'll have to look into this-" he patted the pocket where he'd put the notebook- "before we can do anything." He squinted suspiciously at Sirius. "Constant vigilance, sonny."

"Yes, sir," Sirius replied weakly, and Moody lumped away. He sank back in the chair. Needless to say, the Christmas Ball had not gone in _anyone's_ favour that year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone reading this, go check out li0nheart's Harry Potter (Marauder's Era) story IT'S SO GOOD. Lion Hearts Book 1, Golden


	28. Snow Without Thought Of Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Christmas holidays, but after being left for dead in the Forbidden Forest and caught up in an attempted framing incident, Sirius and Io aren't really in the Yuletide spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up my lovely girls, boys, enbies, however you fall on the spectrum: I am returned. I bring new chapters. I bring wizardry. I bring Christmas stuff because I miss the snow :)

"Pawn to E-5," Sirius said, his cheek sinking into his palm and his eyes hooding with sleep. 

"Bishop to E-5," Marlene replied. Her bishop slid across the board, seized Sirius's pawn and dashed it violently to pieces. Sirius blinked. "Come on, Black. Pay attention."

It was the first night of the holidays. The chilly black cloak of a winter evening pressed against the windows of the warm common room, and inside, Sirius was slowly losing to Marlene while Io watched, sank into the sofa with one leg crooked over the back of it and her Ancient Runes book lying forgotten on her stomach. A single mandatory curfew had been introduced for all years: back in common rooms by eight o'clock at night to avoid any incidents. Not that there were many people left at Hogwarts. Worried parents had pulled kids out from spending the holidays there at the last minute, and even now, Candy Bellchant was packing her bags to go home.

"Queen to G-4," Sirius countered. Over at the table, the few remaining seventh years frowned over their homework. A fourth year boy had fallen asleep on the window seat, his breath misting against the thick glass. Sirius's queen surged forward, and Marlene raised an eyebrow.

"Rook to G-4," she said, and her left rook marched down the board and brought a cracking blow down on the queen's head, then dragged the broken piece away. One of Sirius's knights shook a fist at him, and he sighed.

"Can I forfeit?"

"No," Marlene replied sharply. "Come on, I've almost won."

"Pawn to B-6," Io suggested.

"Pawn to B-6," Sirius relayed. The piece didn't move and he rolled his eyes.

"What's the matter with it?" Marlene asked, leaning forwards curiously.

"It's my granddad's," Sirius replied. "Sometimes they get it into their tiny heads not to listen to people like Io." He slammed a fist down on the board, and the pawn jumped, shook itself all over, and moved to B-6.

"What do you mean, people like me?" Io asked, pushing her book onto the floor and sitting up. Sirius looked up, wide-eyed, and Marlene sucked on her teeth.

"That's not-"

"You meant blood traitors. Half-bloods." Her words were not much less than a whip crack, and Sirius almost flinched.

"No, I didn't," he replied fiercely, but he was slumping in on himself and digging a finger into his own thigh. 

"Queen to D-7," Marlene interrupted, and her queen swooped right up to Sirius's king. "Checkmate." The king removed his crown and threw it violently at the queen's feet, where it cracked in two, and then the king stalked sulkily off the board.

"Well, awesome," Sirius snapped, sweeping the remnants of the chess game into the box and getting to his feet. "Thanks for losing me the game, Morrigan." Io narrowed her eyes, but he was gone, up the boys stairs, before Io could leap from the sofa and get angry. His hard footsteps rounded out a rhythm of how many ways she could hex him, inside her head.

"Honestly," Marlene said, watching Sirius go. "He's gotta get a grip." Io retreated slowly back into the sofa, resting a hand on her stomach. Outside, a wind picked up, as if it had been ruffled by the sudden spike of tension, and the windows rattled eerily in their frames.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The tables in the Great Hall had all been pushed into one huge square the next morning, with the food adorning the middle. The Ilvermorny students huddled together, and the pupils from Hogwarts drifted into House groups, so the inclusive arrangement really hadn't done much.

Io helped herself hungrily to eggs and toast, and was halfway through her second serving when she looked up and, quite by chance, caught the quick eye of Evan Rosier. 

He was sandwiched between Dillon Pucey and Mulciber, both of whom had very murderous looks on their faces, but Evan, on the other hand, looked simply bored. His hair was combed back and he was wearing a loose, collared plaid shirt and a very strict posture that clashed horrendously with Pucey's sloped shoulders and Mulciber's crooked tilt.

Io and Evan held a long gaze across the sparse table, and then after a second, Evan pushed his chair smartly back from the table and marched from the Great Hall. Io shoved her plate away and stood, drawing Rio's attention, who was sat next to her.

"Gotta go," she said, by way of explanation. Rio grunted and returned to frowning over her Charms book, but Io could still feel Rio's eyes on her back as she left the Great Hall. Always someone watching in the castle. 

The Entrance door was open, flowing freezing wind into the castle, and Io ducked around the corner, away from it. There, Evan, up ahead. Quick, militant steps. Not looking over his shoulder. Io sped up, and was ten feet away from him, about to call his name-

"Io, wait up!" She stopped in her tracks, gritting her teeth, and Evan turned his head, still walking. She stared after him for a second, long enough to catch the slim smile on his face, and then her name was called again and she turned around. It was Deion. Of course it was. Perfect Prefect Deion chasing her down from the moment he'd set eyes on her. Io fixed her hair discreetly and inwardly scowled at herself.

Deion arrived, a little out of breath, and squinted suspiciously over her shoulder.

"Who's that?"

"No one," Io snapped impatiently. "What do you want?" He blinked, taken aback at her tone, then ran a nervous hand over his hair.

"Um, I heard what happened at the dance..." he started, and Io raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry for going off," he tried, and Io crossed her arms. "I really- are we still good?" he asked, and Io, this time, actually considered it. 

It wasn't that Deion was draining, it was that the dating him and thinking about him and looking forward to meeting him was. Deion's eyes were wide and dark, and thinking about not wanting him was like a stab in the gut. He was so lovely and she _liked_ him, she really did; the dance two nights ago had been incredible, his laugh was like music to her ears, and he kissed her with all the will in the world. He told her every day how much she meant to him. He held her hand and took her out and played Quidditch with her. But the problem was that he was perfect, and she was not.

She didn't say that. She didn't say anything. She looked at him, at her perfect Deion, and for once she didn't have the heart or spirit to let go. So she nodded, with all the guilt possible, and then he beamed and it became it a little worse, a little bit more painful.

†††††††††††††††††††††

She chased Evan down the next day in the library, as snow fell thickly down outside the misted windows and Madame Pince dozed in her chair, uncharacteristically peaceful.

Evan was wandering the stacks with his hands in his pockets, gracefully slumped, eyes skimming the titles. Io had the feeling he'd been waiting for her to find him. She came up behind him, wand in hand, and slid _A History of Phoenixes: The Most Elusive of Beasts_ from the shelf at her eye level. It fell open to page three hundred and seventy with a creak, and Evan looked around very slowly.

"Brewsam," he greeted. Io paused in pretending to read the book. All his nasty little friends called her Morrigan. But then, Evan Rosier was known for having a certain type of charm. He reached out a long finger and ran it thoughtfully over the ancient spines of the books in front of him. "Good book?" he asked. Io shut the book with a slap and a plume of dust.

"Not really. What you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." She'd been expecting a more cryptic and annoying answer, as was the norm with a lot of Slytherins.

"Why were you waiting for me?" she asked, testing the waters. He glanced at her, only quickly, but it made her heartbeat jump. Somehow.

"You want to know something," he replied. 

"I wanna know _everything_."

"Well, then." He looked at her again, longer this time, like he was studying her and memorising her. "Shall we get started?"

†††††††††††††††††††††

The snow carried on without pause for the next few weeks. The remaining few students could sometimes be seen from Gryffindor Tower, dots in the snow of the courtyard, arm in arm and heading to Hogsmeade, or diving through the speckled air on broomsticks.

Evan and Io met up again and again, free from the hawk-eye of Lucius Malfoy and his cronies, as they were all at home. Io dodged Deion whenever she saw him around the castle, and Rio and Marlene railed her with advice and questions and exasperated orders, none of which helped.

Sirius, on the other hand, seemed not to care less about Deion now, and took to regarding Io's meet-ups with Evan with jealous suspicion.

"You can't even trust him," he growled one afternoon, watching Io study the timetable of meetings from Malfoy that Evan had disclosed to her. It was still snowing outside, but the fire was stiflingly warm.

"Can you stuff it?" she snapped back, and he crossed his arms with a scowl.

"I'm just saying."

"Don't." She went back to poring over the timetable, and Sirius rubbed a thumb over his watch strap and tapped his foot on the rug.

"He's _evil_ ," Sirius blurted desperately after a few minutes, and Io groaned through closed teeth. "They all are."

"He saved me from being mauled in the Forest!" Io snapped. "What more d'you want?"

"Aren't you forgetting that he was the one who _buried_ you there in the first place?" Sirius replied vehemently. Io rounded on him.

"I trust him! Shouldn't that be enough for you?" They stared at each other for a second. Sirius's face was open and pale and stone-eyed, and it was freezing, too. Io shut her eyes, so he wouldn't look at her like that, or at least so she wouldn't have to see it. "I'm going upstairs," she muttered after a second, starting to tuck her things away.

"Why don't you go talk to your boyfriend about me?" Sirius taunted, and Io gritted her teeth.

"Will you stop?" she exploded. "I thought you were over that!" He blinked. Then settled back into his chair, the corner of his mouth turning down. "Sirius, I have a boyfriend, but that doesn't mean I love you any less, a'right?" He went very still, and for a long, terrible second, Io's gut twisted itself in knots. Sirius didn't get many 'I love you's. "As a friend," she added, very quietly, settling back into her seat. Sirius had gone a little red, but he recovered quickly.

"Rosier's sneaky. He's that kind of guy that makes you think he's on your side, right, and then-"

"Okay!" Io said, exasperatedly. "Okay, I get your point. Will you be happy if you finally get proven right and he sticks a knife in my back?"

"No! Of course not! I'm just looking out for you, okay?"

"Well, look out for me in a way that doesn't have so much talking, yeah?" 

"You love the sound of my voice."

"You love the sound of your own voice."

"Because it's so beautiful."

"You're such a prick."

"I love you, too," he muttered. Io smiled down at the timetable. And outside, the snow fell thicker than ever.

†††††††††††††††††††††

It snowed so much that night, that huge, soft drifts built up all around the entrances to the castle, and Filch and Flitwick spent hours melting it away. 

Sirius and Io, on the other hand, spent hours broomstick dive-bombing the piles of snow from the chilly air, laughing like maniacs and throwing handfuls of snow around. By the time the sun was sinking again, Io was freezing, hungry and pink-cheeked, and Sirius was the same. They stumbled, shivering, into the Entrance Hall, and Io unwound her Gryffindor scarf and shook the crystals of ice away.

"Rudolph," Sirius panted. Io looked at him, and he pointed at her chill-reddened nose. "The reindeer." He lunged for her, grabbing her nose between his finger and thumb, and holding her shoulder to keep her still with the other hand. He pinched her nose and she yelled and laughed and pushed him away, and as she turned towards the Great Hall, all of a sudden, there was Deion, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Io's smile slid from her face, and her veins seemed to freeze just with the dread of facing him again. She tried to say something, but Sirius was still standing awkwardly behind her, Deion was drilling her with that stare, and her voice wouldn't work.

"Hi, Black," Deion said coldly, nodding to Sirius over Io's shoulder.

"Evening," Sirius replied cheerfully. Io could quite happily have hit him right there, but then he moved quickly past her and into the Great Hall without another word. Io reluctantly turned back to Deion.

"Hi, Dee." He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and a frown appeared on his face.

"You're avoiding me," he said. Io unzipped her coat. It was getting very hot in here all of a sudden.

"I'm not avoiding you," she lied, checking over his shoulder to see what was for supper.

"Io," he said, leaning into her field of vision. "I asked if we were good, and then you ran off and hid from me for the next two weeks. Did you get my owl?"

"You sent me an owl?" Io asked with a giggle. She couldn't help it. An owl, to get someone's attention? A little bit extra, if you asked her.

"Yeah, it had chocolates with it," Deion replied coolly. Io blinked.

"It had _what_?"

"Can we just clear this up?" Deion asked wearily.

"Chocolates? You're kidding me." This had to be the greatest loss of her life so far. Chocolates, by owl?

"Io!"

"Right, sorry. Clear it up? What d'you mean?"

"You don't want this anymore, do you?" It was like he'd punched her in the chest with just those words. Io stared at him like she was looking across a canyon in the ground between them, and then all of a sudden, everything crashed into her all at once: guilt, for having hung on when she should have let go: an ache for even having to leave him anyway: and the prospect of the rest of the holidays, hell, the rest of school, without him. Io bent her head and took a breath and then she looked him right in the eye and said what she should have in the first place.

"I'm sorry."

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius seemed guardedly ecstatic when she told him, which was not the reaction she needed, but Marlene and Rio were suitably comforting. All in all, Io wished for Lily instead, or maybe even Remus. She didn't sleep that night, so she slept all day instead, and the next day, Rio watched her with an uncanny look: worry. _Worried_ about her. They'd been mortal enemies until a few weeks ago. But Io didn't dwell on it. Instead, she moped in a chair in the stuffy common room with her undone homework strewed all over the floor and dwelled on Deion, listening to the happy shrieks of students having snowball fights below the windows.

Christmas Day came too fast, but Io was okay with that. She was also content to spend the day wearily rolling around in bed and half-missing Deion, but Marlene was having none of that. She ripped open Io's hangings at six-thirty in the morning, blinding her with the white morning light, and threw herself onto the bed with a shriek and armfuls of presents. They spilled across the covers and Io groaned and tried to shove her face into her pillow, but Marlene was having none of it, and she ripped all the bed covers away.

"Fuck off," Io mumbled.

"It's Christmas!" Marlene squealed, settling on Io's legs so she couldn't reach for the duvet that was now on the floor. "And you're not moping over your boyfriend for the whole day."

"I don't believe in Jesus," Io groaned, tucking her face into her arm.

"Whatever," Marlene replied, ripping open her first present. "You don't want him, you don't need him, you're free!" Io squinted at her as Marlene gasped at the colour-changing paints she'd been given from Lily.

"From Jesus?" she asked. Marlene threw a present at her head.

"Come _on_! It's Christmas!" 

†††††††††††††††††††††

It was still snowing at lunchtime, thicker than ever before, and the ceiling of the Great Hall was white and bright. 

Everyone was around the table, which was adorned with the biggest Christmas lunch Io had ever seen: turkey and chicken and stuffing and potatoes and gravy and heaps of vegetables and so much more.

Dumbledore was sat at the head in a purple dressing gown and Christmas crown, and McGonagall and Slughorn, either side of him, were both looking equally jolly, for once.

Io ate and ate, and then she pulled crackers with Rio and stole Sirius's food and stacked crowns on top of Marlene's head, and everything was going very well until she looked up and Pucey and Mulciber were sitting together, with no sign of Evan.

It shouldn't have been significant. Evan rarely turned up to lunch, preferring to take walks around the castle or read in the or do his work, as Io had found out over the weeks. This time, however, Io had cajoled him into coming: made him promise. Slytherins didn't break promises, no matter how trivial. And Mulciber had an unusually active look on his face. Not smiling, exactly...more like pleased.

Io let go of the paper salamander she'd got from the cracker, and it disappeared with a crinkle and a wisp of smoke over the edge of the table. Marlene and Sirius's playful banter drifted away into a dull blur of sound as Io ran through her thoughts, trying to figure out where Evan could possibly be.

"Io? Wake up, it's Christmas Day and not a time to be moping over your ex." Rio was waving a hand in front of her face. Io slapped her away and drew a smile onto her face.

"I'm not. Anyone up for a broomstick snowball fight?"

" _Yes_ ," Sirius groaned, tipping his head back. "It is so stuffy in here. Must be you, McKinnon, tainting the atmosphere." Marlene mocked his posh accent and hit him upside the head.

"Let's go before they get too comfortable," Rio said. Marlene faked being sick, Sirius faked looking wounded, and Io rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back.

The snowball fight was very successful, in Io's eyes: they all ganged up on Sirius and dive-bombed him into the snow-blanketed Forest, and then a few sixth years joined in and before long, it had turned into an all-out war. Snow was flying and falling and people were flying and falling and before long, even Professor Sprout and Hagrid had joined in.

Io went to bed that night without thinking of Deion once, but she also went to bed that night still wondering where on earth Evan Rosier could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha it took so long and it's so terrible sorry to disappoint,,
> 
> Pls comment and kudos!


	29. Let The Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quidditch tournament has started! Along with mock exams.

January started bitterly freezing, and then eased into a sort of disappointed chill, but the cold didn't seem to matter to Gwenog Jones when she arrived back from her Christmas holiday. 

The first session that the Gryffindor Quidditch team had that term was gruelling, icy, miserable and two hours long. They played well into the dark, until even hawk-eyed Blythe couldn't see her Snitch anymore, and then Gwenog ushered them, muddy and exhausted, into the changing rooms for theory.

The reason for this hell was that the Quidditch Tournament was starting in a week, and the first match would be Gryffindor against Thunderbird. Gwenog was, to say the least, adamant to win. 

"If we lose the first match, we're out of the running for the whole Tournament, until we play for the runners-up," she said, offering them each a specially made murderous glare. James was falling asleep on Io's shoulder. Tilly had her feet on Blythe's lap. Ellie was ramrod straight and listening to every syllable.

"Yes, master," droned James, giving her a sloppy salute. Gwenog ignored him.

"Is everything clear so far? Leeroy, snap out of it!" Caine jerked his head up with a dazed blink.

"Mehurr," he said.

"Everyone's exhausted, Gwen," Blythe replied with a sigh. Gwenog frowned, like she couldn't possibly see how anyone could be that tired this late. Io yawned. James snored. Andrew's head slipped off his palm and he snapped awake. Gwenog looked very unimpressed.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The match loomed through the dark days. Io studied nervously and ate quickly and slept restlessly and through all of it, kept a single eye out for Evan. She saw him around the castle, his ironed robes and quick eyes. But he didn't talk to her. She woke up two days before the match, opened the drawer of her bedside table, and with a lurch of cold panic, noticed that the timetable of meetings was missing. 

She hadn't looked at it for weeks, caught up with Quidditch and work, and so she'd left it in the drawer at the end of the holidays, before going downstairs to greet Lily. 

And now it was gone.

She dithered for a few seconds, hot with horror, and then Rio burst through their door and she slammed the drawer closed and looked up. Rio paused.

“Alright, Brewsam? Look like you seen a ghost!” Io pulled herself together.

“It’s the ghoul that just walked in the room. Don’t look at the mirror, it’ll crack,” she replied, with a snappy grin. Rio seized the nearest object (Mary’s clean boxers) and threw them at Io’s head.

Lily was uncharacteristically sour that morning. Io, still fretting over Quidditch and the missing timetable and her Potions mock exam in four days, didn’t notice, but it became unbearably obvious when James marched up the aisle at breakfast with his broom in one hand and his hair perfectly messed up.

“God, no,” Lily snarled, snatching Tilly’s Witch Weekly magazine and hunching over behind it to hide her face.

“Morning, Evans,” James said nonchalantly, sailing past. “I like your hair.” Lily grumbled incoherently, and Io raised her eyebrows.

“Y’alright?”

“Wrong side of bed, I s’pose,” called Sirius as he swept after James. “Although Potter’ll take any side.” And he winked lewdly. Lily’s nostrils flared, and Io had to physically restrain her from leaping from her seat after the two of them.

“Hey, chill! Okay? Look, siddown. What’s got you?”

“Nothing,” Lily replied, swinging her bag onto her shoulder and standing. “Goodbye. Mary for God’s sake don’t get pumpkin juice on my _book_!” And she stormed away. Mary blinked, her lip sticking out, and Alice put an arm around her shoulders.

“She’s got her wand in a right knot, eh?” Marlene said dazedly, chin on her palm, still half-asleep.

“Gotta be her sister,” Tilly said, picking her magazine back up and rustling crumbs off the pages. “She was in a right state at the station. Girl wasn’t even seeing her. Staring past her. Looks like a horse with an attitude problem.” Marlene snorted.

“None of you been going through my drawers, have you?” Io interrupted innocently. The girls paused and looked around at each other.

“What you lost?” Tilly asked slowly. Io shrugged.

“Bit of paper. Not important, just wondered if anyone’s taken it out. Seen it anywhere?”

“What’s it got on it?”

“Ah, don’t worry. Look, I got a free period, so I’m going to go practice, okay? See you.” She jumped up before Tilly could offer to come with her, and made a beeline for the doors of the Great Hall, feeling four pairs of eyes boring into her back.

She didn’t go to practice for Quidditch. She took the stairs to the dungeons instead, grimly thinking of catching Evan as he came out of the Slytherin common room.

The dungeons were massive, confusing and full of wonderful smells, but Io had an innate sense of direction and an almost perfect knowledge of the whole castle, so she turned corners and opened doors with long, purposeful strides. 

Evan didn't appear from the common room for at least an hour. By that time, Io was late for Defence, tapping her foot restlessly, and receiving countless suspicious glances from the Slytherins coming in and out of the common room. But then- a whisk of a straight hem, a click of polished shoes-

"Rosier!" she called, pushing away from the wall, shouldering her bag, and marching towards him. He spared her a single glance, and then walked off.

Io frowned and ran after him, slipping through the throng of the Potions corridors: teachers balancing parchment roll pyramids, first years lugging around hand-me-down cauldrons, worried N.E.W.T students trailing colourful smoke and spilling hissing drops of magical liquids as they bustled down the hallways.

But she didn't lose sight of Evan.

She caught up with him by a small, innocent door, grabbed him by the collar and shoved him through the door and into a dark Potions storeroom, then slammed the door closed behind her. Evan stumbled into a rack of questionably filled jars, then righted himself and straightened his robes, looking primly indignant.

"No need for that," he said softly, and Io curled her hands into fists.

"Merlin, you are in for it if you don't start talking," she snapped, slamming a hand into the shelf beside his head. The tower of ingredients wobbled precariously, and Evan looked distinctly ruffled.

"Talking about what?" he asked nastily.

"Avoiding me. Stealing back the timetable. _Running away_ like a damn Mooncalf! What's wrong with you?"

"I'm not avoiding you. I have more pressing matters to-" Io whipped out her wand and stuck it hard under his sharp chin, and Evan stopped waffling. "Don't hex me. The shelf will fall over. You'll drown under all the pickled eyeballs." He didn't look very worried. He shifted under her glare. "How's Quidditch going? I hear Thunderbird are very good."

"Why did you take the timetable?"

"I didn't. What are you talking about?"

"You're a pretty good liar, but it doesn't matter when I _know it was you_." Evan watched her for a second with half-lidded eyes.

"Alright. Get your hands off me, Brewsam. Then we can talk." Still annoyingly cool. Io let him go with a small shove, and lowered her wand.

"Sirius told me not to trust you," she said sharply, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Because I'm Slytherin?"

"Because you tried to _kill_ me," Io hissed.

"I made up for it, didn't I?" He looked somewhat uncomfortable, and Io blinked in disbelief.

"You ain't really believe that, do you?" she asked. Evan paused. Licked his bottom lip. Then-

"Do you want to know about the timetable, or do you want to argue?" Io reluctantly put her wand away, and he carried on. "I took it back because I need time."

"What the hell d'you mean?" she snapped, and Evan held up a hand. 

"Let me finish. They're talking about something. Something important, from outside. Way outside, by the sound of it. I've only heard snatches- just Lucius, Bellatrix and Yaxley are in on it. But we have to wait; see what'll happen. Alright?"

"You don't want me gatecrashing your sick little parties before you hear the latest gossip?" Io replied angrily. "You want me to wait while they do shit outside of Hogwarts? You want to let that happen?"

"I want to see if there's anything I can do to stop it!" Evan snapped.

"Why should I believe you?"

"What else would you do?" His momentary lapse into anger was gone, and he had slipped back into his cool, sly façade. Io missed the anger a bit. The heat made it easier for her to focus. She bit her tongue, dug her short nails hard into her palm, and conceded.

"Fine. Nobody'd better die, though."

"There's barely a chance we can stop it, Io," he replied gravely. Her name from his mouth sounded strange. "This is too much for just me and you."

†††††††††††††††††††††

Twenty-six hours until the match. Io stared at her breakfast, counting out all the different ingredients in the Common Antidote to Posion potion. Lily said across from her with pursed lips and silent eyes, and Alice was reading the _Daily Prophet_ with intermittent horrified groans. Rio was buried in her Charms book.

Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp from behind the newspaper, and Alice slammed it down over her sausages, rattling the table.

"Guys," she said hoarsely, eyes wide and wet. Lily snapped out of her trance slowly, and bent over the paper.

"Oh, God," she said softly, laying a hand over her heart. " _No_..."

"What is it?" Io asked, pushing away her plate and bending over to the other side of the table. Across the head of the newspaper was a bold black heading, proclaiming:

_Accidental Tamper or Annihilative Terrorism? Four Hundred Dead in Albi Blast. Radicals Suspected._

_Four hundred people were killed last night after an explosion in a heavily Muggle-populated area of Albi took out two tower blocks and a hundred-foot square area of other housing. The ongoing investigation from the Muggle police and The Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France has not yet ruled out an on-purpose sabotage: blood purist magical radicals are believed to have been involved-_

Io stopped reading. There was a horrid feeling in her stomach, nothing to do with the fact that she hadn't yet eaten breakfast. Everything to do with the dead people in France, and the hesitation of Evan Rosier. There he was, slumped over the very same newspaper at the Slytherin table with his tidy head in his hands. Io chewed on her cheek. The fingernail marks in her palms were drawing blood. He was distraught.

Her heart was beating way too fast, too loud. All those people.

†††††††††††††††††††††

It was an understatement to say that Io wasn't in the mood for Quidditch the next day. Her knees were practically knocking as she sat in the changing room, barely listening to Gwenog's giddily fuelled rant.

"...Fleming, if you block every single goal, I'll take you to Slughorn's late New Year's, alright? You'll be my plus-one. I swear." Andrew stared at her, wide eyed and a strange, nervous maroon-grey colour. Gwenog glared at them. "We can do it," she said, and Io didn't know who she was trying to convince. "We can do it." There was Madame Hooch's whistle from outside, sharp and clear, and Io picked up her goggles. The team stood, and Gwenog nodded. Breathed. Narrowed her eyes.

"Good conditions. Sun in our favour," Ellie reminded her. 

"We've got this, Cap," said James, with that cocksure grin. "Let's go get 'em."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We need to send care to everyone all around the world in this age of crises, no matter the cause of destruction. ♥️ 
> 
> Donate to the Red Cross Beirut Emergency Appeal here
> 
> Also some really good advice I just got was, white allies of the BLM movement: if you can't donate or go to protests, try spreading the message to your friends and family who DON'T have social media and won't be seeing the stuff you see.
> 
> \- send them videos of peaceful protests and police brutality  
> \- send them articles on corruption in police forces  
> \- UK people: send them information on our failings and racism and colonialism: the UK is NOT innocent!
> 
> I hope that helped. BLM has to be kept going strong. ♥️


	30. Thunderbird and Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a whole chapter of Quidditch with some sapphic love thrown in there to keep my bi arse alive :) 
> 
> In my plan, this chapter is literally labelled as : A break from all the war and angsty shite
> 
> So here ya go!

The noise was deafening. A veritable sea of gold and red roared in triumph as the Gryffindor team marched out onto the pitch, and on the other side, maroon and green flags bearing the Thunderbird emblem were flashing above the crowd. The sun was so bright and golden, that the world narrowed to just the fresh green of the pitch, the loud hum of the stadium and the hoops, looming against the bright sky.

Io managed not to let her knees buckle on the way to the centre circle, but it was a close thing. Her head and her heart were both too full for Quidditch right now.

The Thunderbird team wore maroon robes scattered with green clovers, and the yellow Thunderbird splashed obnoxiously on the chest and back. They all had matching brooms and steely expressions.

Madame Hooch flicked open the catches on the box once the Gryffindor team had assembled opposite the Americans. Io pulled down her goggles. The captain of Thunderbird looked annoyingly smug. The Bludgers rattled in their restraints, until Hooch unstrapped them and they shot up straight into the air like they'd been fired from the front end of a Chinese Fireball. Ellie tracked them with her eyes for a second, rolling her bat in her hand, and Hooch lifted the Quaffle. James made a quick flash of a sign with his hand: let the opposition take it. Andrew was quick enough to get to the posts, and Gwenog was brutal enough not to let the Thunderbird Chasers follow him.

"Captains, shake hands," Hooch instructed, one booted foot on the closed lid of the chest to stop the Snitch from escaping. Blythe had her eyes fixed on it. Gwenog stepped forward and stuck out her hand, and the Thunderbird Captain shook it once, respectfully. Io's heart slammed faster and faster. "Mount your brooms!" She swung a leg over her broom. It buzzed with her own excitement, ready for action. "On my whistle," Hooch said. The stadium was breathless and ready. Io curled her hands around the handle and prepared to kick off. "Three!" James was narrow-eyed and tense. "Two!" The Snitch fizzed angrily inside the box. "One!" Hooch raised the whistle to her mouth, and blew on it. The Quaffle soared into the air, Io pushed against the grass with one foot and shot into the air herself.

And the game was afoot.

The air was brutally cold, stinging her skin and whipping her hair into a frenzy. Io hovered for a second to get her bearings, dizzy and giddy, high above the ground. Two Thunderbird Chasers were falling into formation, skimming the edge of the pitch. One had the Quaffle. Io leant close to her broom handle and shot towards them.

" _Thunderbird in possession of the Quaffle! Gryffindor hunting them down! And it's Thunderbird Chaser Bailey with the Quaffle, boy that kid is fast. Gryffindor Chaser Brewsam is chasing them down, look at that determination. Is that a Bludger?"_

Io was gaining on them. They'd stuck to the curve of the pitch, but she'd cut across, and she was going to reach them before they got to the scoring area. She was flat against her broom, and in her peripheral vision, Caine was speeding parallel to her.

There was a whistle of a large object just past her ear, and as Io drew within two metres of Bailey and the other Chaser, a Bludger struck Bailey in the side and he rolled and dropped the Quaffle. Io dived. The wind stripped her ears raw, and she reached out, scooped the Quaffle from its fall, and swooped ninety degrees up and back around, to face the other end of the pitch. The Thunderbird Keeper hovered by the hoops, invitingly ready.

_"Gryffindor have taken possession of the Quaffle! Chaser Brewsam's on the case, look at her go! Who are you cheering for, Hogwarts?"_

"Gryffindor!" came the roar from the left side of the stands. Spurred on, Io tucked the Quaffle more securely under her arm and drew level with Caine, ready to pass.

There was someone coming up behind her: Io waited as long as she could, and then when they were right at her elbow, she sat up, twisted, and threw the Quaffle across to Caine. He flew onto it, and kept going, a streak of red and gold in the bright sun, staring down the Keeper.

†††††††††††††††††††††

With Alice's Omnioculars glued to her face, Marlene tracked Io's progress around the pitch. They were incredible, really: it was like she was up there flying with them. She pressed the re-wind button to watch Ilvermornian Bailey get hit in the ribs by the Bludger again and again, and then Alice jostled her elbow.

"Give me back my 'noccies," she grumbled, tugging on Marlene's woollen Gryffindor scarf.

"Alright," Marlene said, handing them back reluctantly. "It's too bright, though. Tell me what's going on." There was a sudden sharp jab in Marlene's side and she twisted away violently. "Ow! Evans, you psychopath. What the hell?"

"Head Girl, nine o'clock," Lily spluttered, turning beetroot red as Dorcas Meadowes parted the crowd beside them. Alice, oblivious, gasped at the progress of the match. Marlene felt every cell in her body get very hot all at the same time and for a second she just stood awakwardly, staring as Dorcas tried to move past Alice.

"Excuse me, Prewett," she said coolly, and this time, Alice lowered the Omnioculars. She stared at Dorcas. Dorcas stared at her. Marlene wished for death.

"Hi."

"Excuse me," Dorcas said pointedly, and Alice looked around, saw Marlene folding in on herself, and finally got the point.

"Oh! Shit. Yeah." And she struggled backwards so that Dorcas could face Marlene.

"McKinnon, can I..." Dorcas faltered, noticing Alice staring at them both. Then she struggled valiantly on, as Marlene burned with embarrassment. "Could I talk to you downstairs, for a minute?"

"Sure," Marlene wheezed. She inadvertently remembered Io punching Dorcas in face, and everything got at least a hundred times worse.

The sound of the crowd and the match was muted beneath the stands, but it was colder and darker and Marlene's breaths were coming in nervous puffs of steam. The sides of the stands flapped and shivered in a little breeze.

"Are you cold?" Dorcas asked, like she was trying to be warm and kind. Marlene blinked, and didn't answer. Dorcas nodded and stuffed her hands in her pockets. She was appropriately dressed for the weather: fleece-laid jacket and jeans that hugged her long legs, boots and a Slytherin scarf. She looked lovely and warm, and Marlene kind of wanted to bury her fingers in Dorcas's curly hair and push her face into her neck to warm herself against her skin. Like before. Not that they'd done much cuddling. It had usually been a bit more mature than that.

"What do you want?" Marlene sighed, just to kick away the thoughts that were turning her cheeks red.

"I-I should have taken you to the dance," Dorcas said, rushing the words. Above them, there was a thunder of cheering and feet, but it could have been for either side. Marlene ignored it.

"Is that it? I don't care who you took to the goddamn dance. You're not out. It's fine." She took one last look at Dorcas, her regret-drawn face and knotted hands, and then she pushed past her with an ache under her sternum. God, emotions were untidy. Then Dorcas snatched at her wrist, stopping her, and Marlene jerked to a graceless stop. She looked over at Dorcas with a hot glare that was hard to build. "Let go."

"Can you just hear me out?" Dorcas pleaded, her face a picture of broken pride. Marlene could barely move, and she didn't answer, again. Dorcas, without letting go, scrabbled in her pocket and pulled out-

"A pen?" Marlene snapped. Dorcas practically flinched backwards.

"It's not- your friend told me you liked...Muggle art stuff," she tried. Marlene turned hot with embarrassment and anger. Goddamn _Io_ doing nice things for her. Dorcas was waiting for an answer, this time. Marlene tried to scowl, and failed, Dorcas's eyes were too soft and she was still holding her wrist, skin to skin.

"Are you bribing me?" she said after a second, and Dorcas rolled her eyes, her stiff demeanour back for a second.

"No. I know you can't be bribed. Look, take it-" she pressed the pen into Marlene's hand- "and...I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be _sorry_ ," Marlene replied, against her better pride. "What else do you want from me?" There was a bite to her words that she hadn't intended, and they froze in the air between the two of them, but Dorcas didn't look deterred. Instead, she stepped just a little closer, close enough to just pass by the snaps and the glares and the distance, close enough to make Marlene burn beneath her skin.

"I want _you_ ," she said, ever so softly. "Will you- can we- can I kiss you?" If she walked away now, maybe she'd save herself some pain. But if she walked away now, she'd lose Dorcas all over again and that wasn't a painless journey.

Marlene closed her eyes and waited, and just as Dorcas kissed her, as warm as summer against the chill, a rumble erupted around the stadium, bursting into cheering and whooping and stamping of feet. They kissed beneath the celebration, and it was everything it used to be, and more.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The hoops bobbed in the air ahead, and the Keeper swung to and fro, hands akimbo, inviting a challenge. Io palmed the Quaffle, fitted her fingers around it, and zoomed into the scoring area.

_"Hogwarts Chaser Brewsam closes in on the Ilvermorny Keeper! Keep your eyes peeled, Keeper!"_

Io feinted one way, feinted the other way, her broom responding to the slightest tip of her hand, the smallest shift in centre. The ground swayed below, fifty feet beneath her toes. Io drew back an arm, aiming for the middle hoop, and Keeper readied herself, and then Io dived for the left hoop and threw the Quaffle, straight and true and it soared through the hoop and the stands erupted.

" _She scores! Congratulations, Chaser! That's fifty-twenty to Gryffindor! Better luck next time, Thunderbird._ "

Io looped back around, dizzy with elation, and signed a spread out hand over to James and Caine: they'd mark the opposite Chasers as the Thunderbird Keeper threw back the Quaffle.

But the Keeper swung before she was ready, and the Chaser she was meant to be marking snatched the Quaffle from the air and sped away, and Io gave chase with a curse. The Chaser was fast, but Ellie Spinnet was clever, and before he'd gotten halfway down the pitch with Io on his tail, he had to twirl in mid-air to avoid a zooming Bludger aimed straight at his face. Io moved in, tapped the Quaffle out of his grip and curled herself around, all before he'd realised what was going on. 

James was beneath her and the Thunderbird Chaser was on her tail and Caine was diving away from a Bludger on the other side of the pitch. Two Chasers behind her, now, gaining on her. She pushed her broom faster, faster, but they were in her slipstream and she was in the icy wind. They broke apart, one of each side of her, and then they moved in and she dropped the Quaffle and braked. They overshot, turned around, realised she didn't have the Quaffle and turned around just as James shot into the scoring area and scored another goal. 

There was a confused moment of silence.

Then the Hogwarts students burst into celebration once more, and the commentator had to shout to be heard.

_"Potter scores! That's sixty-twenty to Gryffindor! Now would be a good time for a Snitch sighting, Thunderbird."_

The Keeper dived for the Quaffle and came up sheepishly, ready to throw out again. The Thunderbird Chasers arranged themselves, the Keeper threw the Quaffle, and Caine zoomed in to intercept it. Io flattened herself to her broom and shot forwards to help, but Caine didn't need any help; he twisted away from a Bludger, dove beneath a Thunderbird Chaser and easily dodged the Keeper to score again, and Hogwarts cheered loudly.

Thunderbird were losing momentum, and Io and the Chasers were gaining it. She grabbed the Quaffle, the rough ball stinging her cold fingertips, and then she urged her broom forward, squinting in the bright sunlight. The Keeper looked ready this time, but she'd get past her, she had before, she'd do it again- WHAM.

Io was thrown to the side, her shoulder flaring with a sudden dull agony, still clutching the Quaffle. The impact loosened all her muscles and suddenly she wasn't holding on to her broom anymore, she was falling. Her vision blurred and softened, and there was a distant collective gasp, and then she reached out a hand and clutched at her broom handle. Her fingers closed around the wood. The world came slowly back into focus.

The ground was eight feet away.

Io stomped on the accelerator, missed the grass by inches and soared back into the thick of the game.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Don't kids get detention for being down here?" Marlene asked breathlessly, pulling away from Dorcas for a second with a teasing grin.

"You want me to give you detention?" Dorcas replied. A wry smile. She bunched her fingers into Marlene's scarf and kissed her again, messily. "I know what I can make you do in detention."

The stands roared above them, around them, utterly oblivious to their own happiness.

†††††††††††††††††††††

" _And it's eighty-thirty to Gryffindor, Thunderbird getting back in the game! Keep it up, players!_ "

Io dodged the Chaser Bailey and swerved away from a Thunderbird bat. 

Distantly, she heard Gwenog call, "Start looking for that Snitch, Parkin!"

"What d'you think I been doing?" Blythe hollered back, as Io zoomed past her on her way to the goals. Her shoulder was aching still, jolts of pain going through it every time she tried to turn. The Keeper hovered up ahead, once again, and Io put on a spurt of speed. She approached the goal line, registering Caine right on her tail, then threw the Quaffle over her shoulder and braked sharply. Her arm howled in protest, and Caine shot past her. The Keeper, who'd been focusing on Io, dived for Caine's shot, but she missed by inches and the Quaffle sailed through the goal hoop. Caine punched the air and the stands roared and clapped again, and Io turned back around, nursing her shoulder.

_"Spectacular play by the Gryffindor Chasers! You'll have to get up earlier than that to beat Hogwarts! The score is now ninety-thirty to Hog- hold on, is that the Snitch?"_

Io urged her broom up to try and intercept the Quaffle, but she missed. It didn't matter. The Thunderbird Chaser in the path of the Quaffle was watching the two Seekers as they bulleted around the edge of the pitch, neck and neck. The Quaffle hit the Chaser in the head, his broom shot back a few metres, and Io dived for the Quaffle. She caught it, palmed it to get a grip, then swung around and made back for the scoring area. Hilariously, she made it there without opposition or incident: the students were on their feet cheering on the Seekers, and the rest of the teams were similarly occupied. A few more metres, the Keeper was watching her, hawk-eyed, and then-

" _Blythe Parkin has caught the Snitch!"_

There was a tumultuous roar from the stands, and Io, in sudden elation, cast the Quaffle aside and zoomed towards Blythe, whooping and cheering her name. The Gryffindor team closed in on Blythe, six red and gold blurs of joy, and they battered into a huge hug, spinning loosely in the air as the students in the stands lost their minds below.

"Parkin, you fucking legend!" roared Gwenog, slapping Blythe so hard on the back that she choked.

"We won! We won!" James was shouting hoarsely, over and over again, as they sank slowly to the ground, and Io joined in, dizzy with pride, scrubbing hand into his mess of black hair.

 _"Gryffindor win, two hundred and forty to thirty! Congratulations, Hogwarts!"_ roared the commentator, and the students and the players and even McGonagall up in the teachers tower, collectively screamed themselves raw at their victory.

Io thought that this, this feeling, this game, these people, had to be the real meaning of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reviews / comments, love and criticism alike :))


	31. Hand Me The Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a party, and Gryffindor House don't do parties by halves.

Everyone and their owl, squished into the common and lathered in gold and red paint, was celebrating. Frank Longbottom and Bilius Prewett had managed to get a radio working and were blasting it at top volume, screaming along to the words of the song _Galleons and Goblins_ while stamping the beat out into the study table.

Sirius and Peter had arrived ten minutes ago with eight crates of butterbeer, and had just disappeared to get something 'a bit stronger', as Sirius had said, with a wink at Io.

Still in their Quidditch robes, the team were drinking by the fire, warming up and replaying the match in tipsy detail.

"And then Bailey was like-" James made a comically surprised face- "fuck! Fucking legendary, Jones!" He clinked bottles with Gwenog and they both drank, and then Caine jumped into the conversation.

"Aw but that save, Fleming, when they were chucking it over your head and you were just like BAM! Not today, fuckers!"

"Okay, but who saw Blythe catch the Snitch?" butted in Ellie, waving her bottle precariously. "That dive! Almost WHAM, into the ground, but no!"

"Spinnet, you already drunk?" Io interrupted, and Ellie knocked back the rest of her butterbeer.

"She's had three bottles," Gwenog said, eyeing Ellie carefully. "I might take her to the bathroom. Don't want to have the elves cleaning up Spinner sick, do we?" James snorted, accidentally coughing butterbeer through his nose. Gwenog hauled Ellie off to the toilet, and Blythe put her feet up on Gwenog's empty chair.

"Well done, team," she said, raising her bottle with a bright grin. "And here's to success like this all year round!"

"Cheers!" they called, leaning in to raise their drinks.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius and Peter returned with Firewhisky. Frank Longbottom drank far more than his fair share and could be seen swinging Alice wildly around the common room, and Bilius Prewett fell off the table and slept on the floor for the rest of the night.

Billie Plunkett joined the party a few hours in, and was booed drunkenly into the common room until Gwenog roared at them all to leave her alone. The two of them then sat importantly in the middle of the common room for the rest of the night, surrounded by first year fans and drunk seventh years.

James danced all night, glasses askew and firing sparks from his wand every now and again, and after a couple of drinks, Io joined him. Soon enough, the study area and the upturned table was a dance floor and everywhere else was a watering hole for glued-together couples, nervously drinking girls, and very wasted boys.

That was when things got interesting.

"We gotta cel'brate in styer..." slurred James, twirling his wand and letting off a loud BANG! Everyone ducked with a scream, and then someone laughed and James jumped up on a chair, swaying back and forth, steadying himself by putting a boot on Io's shoulder. "Hand me the fireworks, Wormy!" Peter, who very sensibly hadn't gotten drunk, sighed.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't be a wet wanker, Pe'igrew," Io shouted, dizzily pushing James' foot off her shoulder. James crashed to the floor with a yell, and the dance floor roared with laughter.

"Give him the fuckin' fireworks," Sirius hollered, lounging near the window with his arm around Lois Knight's shoulder. There was a telltale bruise on his collarbone, beneath his loose shirt, and lipstick all over his neck. Peter relented and turned to dash upstairs, shaking his head regretfully.

In the corner, squished as far away from Sirius and Lois as was humanly possible, a very grey-looking Remus was observing the party with trepidation.

Peter returned with a crate in his arms and Io raised her drink with a loud cheer.

"He's got 'em! Potter, light 'im up!" she yelled. James cranked the window wide open and slammed a hand down on the sill, waving Peter over. The crowd parted for him as his sandy head bobbed to and fro behind the crate. Someone started chanting, "Fire, fire, fire!" and the rest of the common room joined in. 

James started setting the fireworks up haphazardly along the sill, every now and then shooting a random cocksure smile back into the crowd, usually at a girl or two. Finally, they were all out on the window sill and James gestured for quiet, mounting his broom and floating about five feet above the ground, wand at the ready. The common room dissolved into a giggling hush.

"Lily Evansh," he mumbled, then blinked. "Lily Evans! Consider this my undying promise that I will marry you one day!" Out in the crowd, Lily, swaying against Mary's shoulder, raised the middle finger high above her head. James let out a melancholy sigh, lit his wand with a flame, and ran it all the way along the ends of the fireworks. 

It was spectacular. They went off, one, two, three, again and again and again, with bangs and booms and crackles, and they burst into light in the dark winter sky, filling the night with a thousand stars. Inside the common room, a smoking James swayed on his broom, craning out the window with Io to watch the celebration.

"Fuck you, Thunderbirds!" Io screamed, and inside the tower, Gryffindor roared in agreement.

†††††††††††††††††††††

It was hot inside the tower and frozen outside, so Sirius opted for the balcony on the fifth floor, where he could watch the party in relative comfort, without having to force his way through a hundred sweaty bodies to find a dance partner.

Lois had fucked off to snog a sixth year instead, so Sirius had broken out the cigarettes and retreated to the safety of the balcony to nurse his raw pride.

Someone threw a fireball out of the tower window with a shriek, and it burned out in the dark, the arc of a shooting star over the sea of the Forbidden Forest. Sirius drew on the cigarette.

Parties were usually his scene. The crowds weren't great, but a bottle and a willing body made it bearable, and the music sometimes drowned out his thoughts. That was okay.

"Hey, hot stuff." He jumped, startled, and Io threw herself down beside him, stumbling over her own ankles.

"Hot stuff?" he asked, relaxing and handing her the cigarette.

"Yeah. 's what the Muggles say." She sucked on it, then huffed smoke out through her nostrils, making a comical face. Sirius grinned. He'd seen her drunk plenty of times before, and it never failed to amuse him. "Where's Lois?"

"Ditched me for Flume."

"Flume?" she snorted. "Awful taste." She sighed. "Hurts, eh?" Sirius frowned.

"What do you know?"

"I been dumped about eight times for Lily. She don't really have time for boys, though." She didn't look too bothered about it. 

"Unlucky."

"Aw, she's hotter than me." She shrugged and took a swig from her drink. Sirius laughed. He was pleasantly dizzy. Not yet flat out drunk, but enough to say what he wanted.

"She's not." He regretted it almost immediately, but Io just raised her eyebrows.

"You flirty..." she mumbled, shoving the cigarette back at him. Sirius relaxed; likely she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. "You watched the match?"

"Course I did."

"Liar."

"I did!" he protested. It wasn't a lie, not really. He'd mostly been sitting three seats down from Regulus and staring at him, trying to bring up the nerve to talk to him. He hadn't really been focused on the match.

God, Regulus. He'd been sitting with Yaxley and Bella, draped in Yaxley's jacket and looking like he'd found his crowd at last. As if Sirius had never existed.

"What you gonna do 'bout Lois?" Io asked, tipping her head back to look at the sky. Her eyelids closed, lashes black against her cheek, and Sirius stopped breathing for a second.

"What about her?" he managed. Io cracked open one eye.

"Gonna get her back?"

"I don't wanna date her."

"No, but you're sitting out here, which means you can't bear the party, which means you want someone to kiss so that you _can_ bear the party," she said derisively. "I can read you like a fuckin...like a..."

"A book?"

"That's the bitch! Go get her!"

"I don't want Lois," Sirius protested, but Io grabbed his wrist, pulled him very, very close, and looked him in the eye. Sirius waited, alcohol and smoke and perfume drifting into his nose. Her eyes were blue and green and brown, all at the same time.

"Don't be a wet wanker," she slurred, and Sirius sighed and pulled away.

"A'right. Fine. Let go of me, and I'll find her."

"Yeah, boy," she whined, slapping him lewdly on the arse. Sirius winced and whacked her hands away, flushing furiously. He didn't want Lois, for God's sake.

"Go to bed," he ordered, as she lounged across the railing of the balcony. Io spread her arms with a wonky grin.

"Party's just begun!"

"Go to bed," he said, more firmly. At least one of them was sort of in their right mind.

"Fuck you," Io grumbled, slopping butterbeer down her robes. 

"Io..."

"You're wearing just a fuckin' shirt, you idiot. Is that James'?"

"Yeah."

"It's too big for you."

"That's the point."

"Ain't you cold? Here." She rose to her feet, gripped the back of her collar, and heaved her robes off over her head. Sirius sighed, and she wriggled out of the head hole and dumped them around his shoulders, then draped them becomingly over him. She stood back to admire her handiwork, leaving herself in only leggings and her sports bra, and Sirius averted his eyes quickly. She didn't seem to mind. "There ya go. Conquering hero, or whatever." She slapped his shoulder and pushed him away with a mock salute. "Go get your girl, mister!"

Sirius rolled his eyes and made his way back to the common room, already lamenting the loss of his peace and his balcony and his cigarettes.

If it was even possible, the walk back to the tower just made things worse. He got inside, and immediately the warmth stuffed his brain full of all the things he'd been avoiding thinking about outside.

Regulus. The Albi blast. Evan _fucking_ Rosier. A cloud of anger smoked through his brain, thinking of recklessly drunk Io and all the things Rosier had done to not deserve her trust. Cutting up Edith Li. Taking messages outside through his secret passages. Disappearing all the time. Fucking burying Io alive, for Merlin's fucking sake. Sirius slammed a fist into the wall and walked a little faster.

He had no intention of winning back Lois Knight. He was going to bed, and that was that.

Unfortunately, the moment he climbed through the portrait hole, a sixth year kid was in his face, dancing on his toes. Flume.

"Oy oy, Black," he sneered, twitching his fists back and forth. He was swaying very fast, back and forth, obviously well on his way to being black-out drunk. "Wanna fight? Huh? You wanna fight, do you? Fucking dumping girls left and right, you fucking bitch boy. They don't want you no more, huh?" He was angry, and drink-sodden, and Sirius should have pushed past him and gone for the stairs. But by God, he was ready for a fight. It didn't matter what for. "You fucking purebred bitch boy!" Flume crowed. Sirius's face twisted.

"Go on then," he spat back, before he could stop himself. "Start a fight, Flume. Fucking hit me."

And he did. Flume's hit was harder than he'd thought it would be, sloppy and straight and right in the teeth. Sirius reeled back, the drink and the impact sending him stumbling into the wall. There was a collective gasp and people started to gather. Sirius pushed himself off the wall and launched himself back at Flume, fists flying.

Flume took it for a bit, whirling his arms ineffectually, and then he landed a hit on Sirius's ribs and something cracked and Sirius wheezed and fell to the side, coughing for air.

Not enough. It wasn't enough. He snarled, blood dripping from his lip, and flung himself into the fray once again, sharp fists slamming into Flume's broad torso. There was a heat driving him, blazing beneath his sternum, and it fuelled his tired muscles. Blood on his shirt, on Io's robes. 

Flume punched him in the throat and Sirius kicked him in the balls and Flume headbutted him in the face and pain spread over his face, flaring agony. Sirius roared and jumped on Flume, somehow taking both of them to the ground, and then there was nothing but his fists and the floor and Flume's bruising face. 

He would keep going. Keep hitting, being hit, until someone pulled him off. There was too much blood and anger to stop now.

Flume threw him off, rolled over, and then his knees were holding Sirius down and his ham-fists were slamming, over and over again, onto his head and his neck and his shoulders.

Trapped and foaming at the mouth, Sirius gasped and shrieked and bucked, and Flume didn't hold back. He punched and hit and Sirius squirmed and howled beneath him like a mad dog.

Flume's knuckles bore down on Sirius's face once again and he pushed up, latched his teeth onto Flume's arm, and ripped his head away. Sharp teeth, long teeth, not human teeth. Flume's blood in his mouth and a roar of pain, and Flume was toppling sideways.

Sirius scrambled on top of him, and there was tears and saliva and blood on his face, and he hit, again and again and again. He would not lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes 😬


	32. Wizard Chess And Epistolary Arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius has some thinking to do. Remus is floating on a cloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff? Me? Never...
> 
> TW: mentions of self-harm, I'm sorry.
> 
> https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/helplines/ - helplines for mental health
> 
> https://www.supportline.org.uk/problems/self-injury-and-self-harm/ - directs you to hotlines and websites specifically to help with self harm
> 
> Keep safe & remember that you are loved ♥️
> 
> Also there are some questionable ethics in this chapter: I'm not condoning anything my characters do.

No one saw Sirius for a while following the fight. 

He was omitted from the Hospital Wing after three hours, mended and reprimanded and gifted with a month of detention, but then he disappeared, still in his blood-strewn shirt and tight party jeans.

Until three in the morning two days later, when Lily Evans crept downstairs, thinking of a warm fire and the silent companionship of someone else's cat while she read her sister's latest letter, and she found her favourite chair occupied by someone else. Someone decidedly neither feline nor silent.

"Watch it, Evans." Lily stumbled backwards, barely holding in a shriek, as her favourite chair barked out a sudden order. She squinted through the orange dark, and Sirius Black glared back at her, his ankle up on one knee and his hands behind his head.

"You look awful," she said, without thinking, her hand over her heart to try and calm its erratic beat. Because he _did_. Whey-faced and scowling. Matted hair. Shallow breaths rising and falling beneath his thin shirt, and goosebumps all over his skin. He looked like he hadn't eaten in days.

"Cheers," Sirius growled, stretching his arms above his head. His sleeve fell back, over his wrist, and Lily caught a glimpse of a long-healed scar, jagged and white, sliding across his wrist. Sirius hurriedly shook his sleeves back down, and Lily looked away guiltily.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked, setting Petunia's letter down on the table and throwing herself onto the sofa beside Sirius's chair.

"I had some thinking to do," he replied, eyes flickering over to the low-burning fire. It was casting shadows everywhere, into the hollows of his eyes and cheeks, drooping darkness from the tips of his hair, making him into some sort of awful romantic monster. 

Lily settled further into the sofa to warm up and crossed her legs, and he looked sharply over, eye caught by the movement.

"What about you?"

"I had some thinking to do," she cut back. A hint of a smile shot across his lips, and Lily reached for her letter and tore it open, ready to just ignore him. Usually there was no one down here but her, and that was how she liked it; Sirius Black was renowned for talking far too much, and all she wanted right now, was silence.

"Who's it from?"

"My sister," she said primly, snapping open the folds and disappearing behind it. Her heart sank almost immediately. It wasn't even addressed. Petunia had just started writing without bothering to put down _Dear Lily,_ or anything of the sort.

"What's she saying?" Sirius asked nonchalantly, hooking one knee over the arm of his chair. Lily stared, unseeing, at the letter, Sirius's voice digging up unwanted fury.

"None of your business," she snapped back, and he raised his palms in surrender.

"Alright. Keep your hair on." Lily continued to read.

_Mum says I should write to tell you about Vernon. He's my boyfriend now. I haven't told him about all your freaky stuff, and I never shall._

"You know, if you wanna talk..." Sirius was saying, watching her carefully. Lily felt like someone had just jammed a stake of blunt wood into her solar plexus. She took a breath, around an ache, and tried very, very hard not to cry. "Evans?"

"What the bloody hell do you _want_?" she exploded, slamming down the letter and glaring daggers at him. Tears started to collect in her eyes, and then spilled down her hot, embarrassed, furiously red cheeks, and suddenly she was crying. 

Lily yanked her pyjama sleeve over her hand and dashed away the tears, but before long, she was full on shaky-crying, and Sirius was sitting in her favourite chair and staring awkwardly over at her.

She buried her face in her sleeve and hiccupped and sobbed just for a little while, and when she surfaced, swollen-eyed, from her momentary lapse in demeanour, Sirius was sitting stiffly beside her, fingers tucked into his waistband.

"Evans-"

"Sorry," she sniffed, scrubbing hard at her face. "Sorry." She took a deep breath, snatched up her letter, and stood quickly. She'd finish it later. Not here, alone in front of Sirius Black. At least the random cats appreciated her and left her alone, but he was looking at her very strangely. "I'm going to bed." And she crossed the common room with fast strides, making for the staircase.

"Want to play chess?" She stumbled to a stop. The letter pinched her skin, angry and spiteful. Lily made up her mind, and she cast it aside onto a little table and spun around. Sirius was standing on the rug in front of the fire, thumbs in his back pockets and hair tumbling around his face, and he looked pathetically kind.

"Alright," Lily said, marching over, and Sirius's eyebrows lifted. "Alright. Let's play chess." She sniffed involuntarily. "Can't hurt, can it? Where's the board?" she asked, busily straightening out her pyjama shirt. Sirius looked very surprised, and then he gave an odd little movement, and jerked into action.

"Oh! Board, yeah." He bent down, scrabbling under the low table between the sofa and the fire, and his bum suddenly wiggled in triumph. "Uh, I left it...here!" He extricated himself, dusty and red-faced, and threw the board down on the floor, then tipped the players noisily from the box. "Come on, Evans."

"Quiet, Black!" hissed Lily, but she settled herself cross-legged on the floor across from him. "You'll wake up the whole house!"

"Yes, ma'am," Sirius said, with another faint smile, and he rolled onto his stomach and began setting out the pieces excitedly.

†††††††††††††††††††††

They played long into the morning, game after game, and the fire sank into low, hot embers. Just as the tiniest hint of a sunglow was ebbing above the mountains, there was a patter of feet on the stairs, and both Lily and Sirius looked over, suddenly panicked.

"Padfoot! What are you doing here? We've been looking for you for days!" James Potter exclaimed, stumbling down the last few steps. Lily relaxed and turned back to the game, shaking her head. "Evans? Honestly, out of bed at this hour?"

"Quiet, Potter, I'm trying to concentrate," she snapped back. James collapsed in Lily's favourite chair, his head on his arm.

"You are the _actual worst_ at this game, Evans," Sirius said, amused.

"I know, but I'll beat you at Monopoly," she muttered, shoving a bishop across the ancient board.

"Muggle game?"

"Yeah, I'm great at it."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Sirius snorted.

"I believe you, Evans," James piped up, with a yawn. Lily shushed him, concentrating on the game. "You're a bit cranky, Evans. Past your bedtime?" He checked his watch, and yelped. "Oh, Merlin! It's so late, both of you, to bed!" He stretched and started to rise, but Sirius caught his ankle and sent him crashing back into the armchair.

"Prongs, Prongs, sit down. Night's only getting started. I'm going to beat Evans at this, and then we'll try Monopoly."

"It's four in the morning! We have classes tomorrow!" James bleated. Lily rolled her eyes.

"So? Live a little, Potter. I'll beat him this time, if you want to witness history."

"I haven't beaten him once in five years."

"But I'm superior to you in many fields."

"McKinnon beat me two months ago," Sirius butted in, and James gasped.

"Did you cry, Pads? Did you scream and throw a tantrum?" James teased.

"I believe the correct term is 'storm out'," Lily put in with a grin. "Io shared the story with us." Sirius scowled and flicked over her bishop to replace it with his.

"Gotcha."

"Damn," she hissed. James tucked his knees up to his chin and hooked his fingers between his bare toes, and Lily surveyed the board, forgetting about spiteful letters and wars and dirty blood. The fire was a warm circle of light, and she had the rest of the night to beat Sirius Black at chess.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Now that mock exams had started, Madame Pince ran an even stricter regime in the library: she'd enlisted the help of a few of the elves to police the stacks, and so Remus sat in absolute silence, with barely a rustle or a scratch, in complete euphoria.

Euphoria, I say, because Ozy was sat at his elbow, long, soft black hair falling over their face, and scribbling untidy little notes every now and again to push into Remus's sight.

_There's nothing worse than raisins in chocolate._

_Do you think Pince would mind if I borrowed her hat? Quite a fashion statement._

_My friend from Georgia sent me an entire pineapple the other day. What does this signify?_

Remus almost snorted out loud, and a lone house elf wandering the bookshelves near them whipped around suspiciously, long ears flapping. Remus bent his head over his work, and when the elf had moved on, he took Ozy's note and dipped his quill in ink.

 ** _Pineapples mean companionship._** he wrote out.

It wasn't long before Ozy scratched a note furiously back.

_No they don't they signify fertility._

Then they sighed and snatched it away, and a few seconds later, the note landed back on Remus's revision.

_My mistake: welcome. It's welcome._

Remus rolled his eyes.

**_Welcome to Georgia. Don't get scurvy while you're here._ **

_Do they not have veggies in Georgia?_

**_Pineapples prevent scurvy._ **

_I love that you know that._

**_What else do you love about me?_ **Remus scribbled, and when he handed it back, he bent over his book studiously and did his best to push down the hot flush of risk. Ozy took a while to reply.

 _Everything. You're very pretty. You're very dumb. You blush all the time. You're lovely. I love it all._ There was a little heart drawn beside the writing, and all of it: the inky message, the tiny diagram, the little grin on Ozy's face, made Remus feel like he was floating on a damn cloud.

†††††††††††††††††††††

It was far too cold in the exam room for Io to concentrate on her Ancient Runes translation. She shivered in her robes, sucking on the end of her quill, and wished she'd had the foresight to bring her jumper.

What made it worse, however, was that the Ancient Runes exam was _nasty_.

Two seats away, there was Charley Willoughby with her head in her hands, and up ahead, Harvey Vane was running his hands nervously through his hair over and over again. Min, on the other hand, three feet away from Io, was almost to the end of the paper already, furiously scribbling away. Io returned to her translation and miserably crossed out the last line. This was _not_ going well. How was she going to figure out this exam in the summer if she couldn't even do a simple translation now?

Herbology was one of the best, a practical exam, which was a relief: Io found writing slow and impenetrable, especially essays and _spelling_. They had to figure out the best way to feed a riled-up Chinese Chomping Cabbage, put a Fanged Geranium to bed, and tend a teenage Mandrake into submission. All in all, Io could have done without the sharp teeth and ear-splitting wailing, but she felt that she did well.

She spent her breaks with James and Sirius, their little group stalking down the halls, ties undone, shirts untucked, talking like they owned the place.

"Oi, Hornby!" Sirius called. Up ahead, a third year stopped walking and swung around, eyes wide. They sauntered past, and Sirius pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and wiggled it enticingly. "Wanna come smoke behind the greenhouses?" Io grinned, holding back a laugh.

"Don't corrupt the shrimps, Pads," James said with a laugh. Hornby's eyes got very wide and he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked around, as if for a way out.

"What doesn't kill ya, Hornby," Sirius teased. Hornby shuffled his feet.

They ended up, all four of them, by greenhouse eight: Hornby red faced and coughing but looking very pleased, Sirius languishing against the wall and teasing a Venomous Tentacula from behind the safety of the glass, James taking intermittent breaths from Hornby's cigarette to keep his intake down, and Io up on the low brick wall behind the greenhouses, watching the students walking around on the damp lawns, one knee up, smoking in full view should anyone care to look her way. Well, the risk was what made it fun.

"Doing a'right, kid?" asked Io. Hornby, pink and grinning and probably buzzing off the nicotine, nodded enthusiastically. Io waved down at James. "Prolly better cut him off now," she said, and James took the cigarette from Hornby with an endearing grin, placing it back between his own lips.

"How was that, huh?" James said, prodding Hornby in the ribs.

"Good," the kid gasped.

"You got exams?"

"No," Hornby said, shaking his head. James puffed smoke into the chilly air and licked his lips.

"Aw, that's good. Now don't go smoking anymore, will you?"

"Quit it, Prongs," Sirius groaned, tipping his head over by Io's dangling foot. "Let the kid live a little."

"Heads up," Io said sharply. She'd spotted a sinister group making their way over the lawns, towards the greenhouses. Sirius blinked lazily.

"Ever been threatened, Hornby?" he asked, raising his cigarette to his mouth.

"N-no," Hornby replied, eyes getting wide again.

"Let him alone, Sirius," Io said, tracking the group with sharp eyes.

"Ever been beaten up?"

"No, sir," Hornby said, trembling now. James snorted.

" _Sir_? Honestly, shrimps are something else."

"Ever talked to Lucius Malfoy?" Sirius carried on, cigarette dangling loosely from his lip.

"N- why?" Hornby asked, pulling his robes closer around himself.

"Sirius, stop it," Io butted in. The group were getting closer. She took another draw of smoke.

"What do your parents do for a living?" Sirius mused, like he was having a friendly tea-time conversation.

"My mum's an Auror," Hornby mumbled.

"Auror, huh?" Sirius said, with an air of impressment. "She put any Dark Wizards away recently?"

"I don't know. I-I don't think- she's not allowed to talk about it," he finished firmly.

"She a Mudblood?" Sirius said, mouth twisting around the word. Io twitched and frowned down at him.

"What the hell?" she snapped. "Don't go saying words like that! You fucking-"

" _Sorry_ ," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "She Muggle-born?" Hornby's eyes flickered from Sirius to Io, but she wasn't paying attention to him anymore. She was following the group with her gaze as they ducked inside the greenhouses and out again, obviously searching.

"They both are," he mumbled. Then, "What's going on?"

"We gotta couple hunters on your tail," Sirius teased. At last, James broke his silence with an unimpressed stare.

"Sirius, leave the poor kid alone now," he reprimanded. He dropped the butt of his cigarette into the wet concrete and ground down on it with his heel.

"Vanish that, you dirty pig," Io said, without looking over. James huffed, pulling out his wand, and obliged. "Alright, they're here." She raised a hand and waved, grinning cheerfully. "What's up, Evan?" she called.

Sirius stiffened and scowled, and Io ignored him.

"Whasamatter, you lose a plant?"

"Fuck off, Brewsam!" came back a deep voice. Unmistakably Mulciber.

"Whatcha looking for, then?"

"I'll report you for smoking!" called Pucey, thin and reedy in the cold air. Io laughed and spread her arms in challenge.

"Go ahead, you rat-arsed twat!" she hollered back. "Just think of all the things _I_ could tell Ol' Dumbers!" The group rustled uncomfortably, and started to converse amongst themselves.

"Haven't seen a little Hornby kid around, by any chance?" called Rosier after a while. Io drew on her smoke before answering.

"Looking for someone to join your cult?" she hollered, and Pucey made to draw his wand. Rosier put a hand out to stop him.

"No need," he said, softly, but loud enough that Io caught it. James started to roll his sleeves up.

"Are they coming?" he asked, puffing up his chest, obviously itching for a fight. Sirius, unbothered but with narrowed eyes, sucked on his cigarette once more. Hornby was shivering in terror, back pressed against the wet wall.

"What makes you think I hang around with shrimps?" Io shouted.

"Cause you're a fucking pedo, that's why!" screeched Pucey.

"Calm down," Mulciber growled, audibly annoyed. Io raised her eyebrows.

"He just called me a pedo," she muttered.

"That he did," Sirius replied, eyes half closed.

"Don't worry Hornby, your dick is safe," sniggered James. Hornby frowned. Io whacked James on the head and turned back to the group at the end of the greenhouse.

"Are you gonna fuck off, then?" she called. They seemed to converse for a second, and then they started to shuffle off, Pucey giving Io one last death glare as he went.

"I told you Rosier was no good," Sirius grumbled.

"Shut the fuck up," Io replied lazily. "Alright, Hornby?"

"Yeah," Hornby whispered. Io watched the group go for a few more seconds, then took one last draw from the cigarette, Vanished it, and dropped down from the wall, undoing her second button.

"Stressful, huh?" she said, looking the kid up and down.

"Why were they looking for me?" he whimpered.

"Dirty blood," replied Sirius, by way of answer.

"Don't worry about it," James replied, when Hornby's eyes started to glisten with horrified tears. "Don't worry about it, kid. Here's what you're gonna do, okay?" Hornby nodded, quickly and far too long. "You have to stick close to other people. Older kids, if you can. No going off on your own. If you're ever really scared, get a Gryffindor to take you to the Tower and find me, 'kay?"

"Not Yaxley," Io interrupted. "Or Travers. Anyone but them." Hornby nodded again, pale and drawn.

"Good man," James said. "Alright, we'll take you back to the Entrance Hall, we've got an exam in ten minutes."

"Fuck," Sirius groaned, tipping his head back. "Seriously?"

"It's only Charms," Io replied. "Come on, Hornby. Sirius, let's go."

They made it back to the Entrance Hall without incident, but James watched with trepidation as Hornby ran off to his friends. Io grabbed his elbow and pulled him into the Great Hall.

"Come on, mother hen," she sighed. "He'll be fine. Besides, he's on a little high, and they're so brave when they're high."

"We have no morals," James replied, and then all three of them burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chess was inspired by  this Pin, originally posted on Tumblr by harrypotterfics.


	33. Home, Heart, Happiness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next match of the Tournament begins, and Io receives a letter from her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: meltdown
> 
> Idk if it's a trigger or not but it was extremely upsetting to write, so...
> 
> Also PSA I guess: sometimes i think I'm making everything too gay, and then I remember that 'forced diversity' is supremacists way of trying to silence representation :) 
> 
> Nope! People like Ozy, bi, non-binary and Native Hawai'ian, just _exist_.
> 
> keep writing lads! Make it as gay and diverse as you fuCking WaNt!

Owl post came at breakfast, which was, in Io's eyes, the worst time: no one wanted an owl splashing around in their cereal after it had misjudged a landing, and no one wanted owl crap or feathers floating in their pumpkin juice. 

Elwood landed in Io's bran flakes with a _splat_ , fluffed his milky wings around for a second, then remembered to present her with his letter and hopped out of her bowl to dry himself off over her glass of juice, looking very pleased with himself.

“Idiot owl,” Io sighed fondly, flipping droplets off her letter.

“It’s Wobbles!” James exclaimed, leaning over Io’s plate to give Elwood a bit of sausage, which he snapped up eagerly. “Getting a bit fat, huh?” he said, flattening the wind-ruffled feathers on Elwood’s head. Elwood cheeped, beak full of meat. Io rolled her eyes and stuffed the letter into her bag, then checked her exam timetable. Potions practical first thing in the morning, but then in the afternoon, Wampus house would be playing against Ravenclaw, so there were no exams scheduled after lunch.

“Looking forward to the match,” Peter grumbled from across the table, scowling at his timetable.

“Cheer up, Worms,” Sirius said affectionately. “Could be worse. Personally, I’m just hoping to see Ravenclaw get their snotty arses handed to them!”

“Really, Sirius?” Remus asked, feigning shock. “Siding with the enemy?”

“I stopped being patriotic the moment I remembered Snivellus was English,” Sirius replied vehemently, and Remus blinked in shock, obviously having not expected him to be so uptight about it. Io threw him a sideways look and then focused on her timetable. An awkward silence drifted down, until Elwood, having eaten his full, sprang from Io’s glass and flapped away. Io reached for her juice, raised the glass to her lips and-

“Son of a _bitch_! Little twat shat in my drink!” And the group burst into laughter.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Potions was a breeze. They had to make a Calming Draught from memory with all the ingredients, within the time limit, and Io knew she aced it. Slughorn drew past and sniffed her potion approvingly, and Io grinned to herself.

She finished with eight minutes to go, and then she looked over at James, one seat away from Lily, and he was sweaty faced and miserable, whereas Lily was poised and smiling and already finished. Snape, across the room, was unsubtly switching his gaze between Lily and Pucey, but when his eyes passed over Io’s, she fixed him easily with a freezing glare, and for the rest of the exam, Snape stared at his cauldron instead. He was up to something. 

Lunch was noisy, Quaffles being chucked over heads, people laying bets, Ravenclaw and Wampus team players shooting each other loud threats over all the hubbub. Io felt for the letter in her bag, folding her fingers around the stiff envelope, and tried to think, amongst all the noise. It was from her mother, that much she knew; she recognised the writing, and the seal on the back. The same seal on Arule’s dumb Morrigan-embossed box. She didn’t even want to read it: she had a horrible feeling it would herald some nasty news, but she’d have to face it sometime. What kind of a Gryffindor would she be if she couldn’t even read a damn letter?

She stuck it in her pocket when the others got up, vowing to open it as soon as she was alone. That wouldn’t be easy: the match was going to be exciting, and she still had to revise for her last two exams, Defence and Care of Magical Creatures. She was too busy, she protested against herself, head down as she followed Lily and Alice upstairs to the Tower.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io, James, Sirius, Lily and Alice took seats on the opposite side of the stands to the Ravenclaw supporters: Remus and Ozy obviously were supporting Ravenclaw, and Peter had tagged after them, along with Marlene, who’d gone to sit with Dorcas (with much supportive goggling from Alice).

“Sev is being weird,” Lily sighed, when they’d sat down in relative privacy. Io, wrapped up against the early March chill, frowned.

“How so?”

“I don’t know,” Lily said, grumpily huffing out a steamy breath. The stands chattered around them, eagerly awaiting the teams’ arrivals. “Hanging around weird people, avoiding me when I’m around you guys, and he’s _pale_ , like he’s sick. I just...I’m worried.”

“Talk to him,” suggested Alice.

“Jinx some sense into him,” said Io at the same time. The other two looked at her. “I mean...talk to him. What she said,” she added hurriedly. Alice rolled her eyes. Lily turned back to the empty pitch, brow furrowed.

“I just can’t figure him out,” she mumbled.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Alice said wisely, and Io grunted in agreement, but Lily shook her head.

“He just doesn’t have a lot of friends, but we’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Still doesn’t mean he deserves you-“

“Whatcha whining about, Evans?” came a voice from below them. Sirius popped his curly head up, a grin on his face, and Lily huffed and swatted at him with her scarf.

“Go away, Black,” Alice muttered. Sirius ignored her.

“I heard the name Snivellus...” he teased, tipping his head from side to side.

“Go away, Black,” Lily echoed, and Sirius pouted.

“Come on, Evans. Want me to throw him into the lake for you?”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Io groaned, and this time, Sirius listened, raising his palms to the sky.

“Alright-y,” he said, mocking an American accent, for some unknown reason. “Enjoy the match, ladies.” And he ducked away.

A few seconds later, there was a loud scratching sound, and then the commentating started, loud and echo-y from the teacher’s tower.

“ _Good afternoon, everyone!”_ A cheer went up around the stadium, everyone getting ready for a good play-off. _”Are you ready for today’s match?”_ Another cheer, and Io joined in this time, the letter from her mother fading from her mind. “ _Well, here come WAMPUS!_ ” Io whooped along with everyone else, and Wampus marched out from one side of the pitch, in bright orange and black blocky robes, with matching brooms just like Thunderbird. There was a swelling boo from the other side of the stands, all of them clothed in bronze and blue. “ _And RAVENCLAW!_ ” roared the commentator. The other side of the stands cheered now, loud but slightly lost across the wide pitch, and Ravenclaw walked onto the grass in single file, straight-backed and determined.

Around the centre circle, the two teams assembled, and Hooch waved to the commentator, then released the Bludgers and raised her whistle to her mouth. Io clutched at her scarf, bright-eyed, ready for some action. The teams mounted their brooms.

“ _The teams are assembled! They look ready for a good match, nice conditions, if a bit of a nip in the air! And here we go!_ ” Madame Hooch blew her whistle, the teams shot into the air, and the game was on.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io sat alone on the window seat of the common room with the envelope, turning it over and over, spinning it through her fingers. Over by the fire, a group of Quidditch players and enthusiasts were loudly arguing about the semantics of the match: Ravenclaw had lost, by a very small margin to Wampus.

Over the hours, the envelope had wilted. Less stiff, yellow from the warmth of Io’s hands and her pocket. She wished she had a cigarette right now, but the curfew was still in place, and the studying students would yell at her for getting smoke everywhere. To be fair, she should be studying right now herself, instead of contemplating opening a letter.

“I have perfect balance,” James protested indignantly from over by the fire, and Io thunked her head against the window sill, pressing the cold glass of the window to her hairline. She could sneak out. It wouldn’t be so hard. Find some peace, at last, and read the letter on her own.

_Just open the damn letter._

Her mother’s handwriting was burning into her eyes. Why couldn’t she just read it, for Merlin’s sake?

Eventually, she made up her mind. She hopped off the window seat and made for the portrait hole, just wanting to getaway from the stuffy warmth and into a cool, open garden. Something that wouldn’t suffocate her.

The corridors were dark. Filch must have been sleep, or in a different part of the castle, because Io encountered no one on her way to the Clocktower Courtyard, and so she hopped onto the wall of the fountain and once more, dug the letter from her pocket. She slid open the seal, took a breath, and unfolded the letter.

_Iona,_

_You are coming home in three days. I will collect you from King’s Cross station on the train, I have arranged everything with your housemistress._

_Your Mother._

Io stared at the paper in the dim light of the half-moon, skimming it over and over, as if the words might twist themselves into something new. She couldn’t go home. She _wouldn’t_. Not to her mother, not to the big cold house with the piano gathering dust and Daisy tucked away in God-knows-where-London.

Why? Why now? There was fear and anger and sudden adrenaline freezing every thought and movement, and Io could only scream in her head, over and over again, like a little child was hanging her fists on the inside of Io's skull.

_I won't! I won't!_

It took mere seconds for her to break, and then the letter slipped from between her fingers and Io dropped her head to her knees, taking more air than she needed, not enough to breathe, though. Gasping and shuddering, and finally, starting to cry.

"I can't," she whimpered, pathetically quiet, into the soaked fabric of her jeans, and she shook with tears, her throat congealing and blocking the air to her lungs. "Don't make me go," she pleaded to the letter, to the fountain, to the empty air. "D-don't..."

The fountain gurgled in time with her skimming heart and her quick sobs, and Io wrapped herself up tight, hugged her knees to her own chest, held herself, and cried against the dark and the vision of her mother's raging face.

"No!" she roared, down at her legs, into the stone beneath her feet, and it echoed in the night, the shout climbed above her head and flung itself away from her. 

She slammed her feet down onto the ground, hit the stone seat with her palms and her fists, threw a tantrum against that damning piece of paper. Io splashed her arms violently into the fountain, threw the water up and around, into the air, onto the stone, right at her own face.

"No!" She shot upright, onto her feet, and kicked the seat as hard as she could, hard as she dared. She screamed unintelligibly, dug her fists into her eye sockets, slammed them fast against her own shoulders. "I won't go!" she shrieked, right up at the moon, and it stared her down, cool and frightening. "I won't go..." Io gasped. She sunk to her knees, let them bruise against the cobbled ground, and then she slammed her forehead into the corner of the stone seat, so hard her vision turned sluggish and grey. 

The next thing she saw was the cool, frightening moon, pale against the dark, and Io felt cobbles beneath her hair, and a sharp ache all around the crown of her head. 

Wet and cold on her forehead, something drip-drying, and Io rolled onto her side dizzily, wiped her hand across her forehead. Dark blood smeared off over her thumb joint and she blinked away pixel squares of black that threatened to overtake her vision and sink her back to the ground. 

She stumbled to her feet, dreamily stepping this way and that, and she left the Clocktower Courtyard, that damned letter still floating, smudged beyond recognition, in the fountain.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Madame Pomfrey received her with a "Goodness, child!" and a "Bed, bed, quickly!" and a "No need to tell me if you can't, dear!" And Io was pressed into one of the hospital beds, the curtains were drawn around her, and Madame Pomfrey fussed for a little bit, cleaning her cut and soothing her bruises while Io sniffed against the clean white pillow.

"I have some pyjamas for you, best get changed. You're spending the night here, and this has to be reported to Professor McGonagall right away," Pomfrey insisted, laying out a very large pair of pyjamas on the bed and disappearing, leaving Io in privacy.

They really were huge. They hung off her with space for pretty much a whole other person, but Io liked the way she couldn't see her own form, and so she slid underneath the covers with her pyjamas on, fingering the bandage wrapped carefully around her forehead and feeling quite awful.

After a few minutes of staring miserably through the dark at her bedside table, the doors to the Hospital Wing creaked open slowly, and Io sat up in an instant, watching the shadows move past her curtains.

"Oh, Merlin," she heard Pomfrey say faintly. "What on earth happened, child?" There was a low, panicked reply that Io couldn't make out, then the crunch of bedsprings, the rustle of sheets, a few pained squeaks and a low, soothing voice. In just a few minutes, there was silence, and Io leaned back against her pillows.

Then Madame Pomfrey appeared through the curtains with barely a whisper.

"Miss Brewsam? Still awake?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," replied Io in a small voice.

"Professor McGonagall to see you, dear." And she slipped away, leaving McGonagall to part the curtains herself and step in. Io flicked on her bedside lamp, chewing on the inside of her cheek nervously.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked. McGonagall sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping, and her eyes were uncharacteristically soft, not stern as usual.

"I have written back to your mother, requesting that you stay to finish your studies over the next few days as well as the holidays," McGonagall said, and Io's heart seemed to swell three sizes. But that wouldn't stop her mother, not for long. "I don't think I shall need to read the response," McGonagall carried on, with a secret smile. "Hogwarts will always keep her students safe. Your mother cannot reach you here, Io."

"Thank you, Professor," Io whispered. She'd meant for it to be louder, but McGonagall simply smiled once more. McGonagall must have meant to leave then, as she rose slightly, but before she could get away, Io launched herself from her bed and hugged her, trying ever so hard not to cry again.

And after a single moment of deliberation, McGonagall hugged her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Io does need some therapy. Hell, they all need therapy!
> 
> Also BAMF Minerva McGonagall. Ain't nobody touching her students 
> 
> I love feedback in the comments, sorry it was short :)
> 
> Im almost on 1000 hits!! !!


	34. Snakes And Cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo look who's BACK
> 
> Sorry no summary lmao
> 
> Ok so I got some feedback about the inconsistency of the accents in this story: from now on I'll try and rectify it but I'm both sleepy and dumb, so don't set your standards too high :) thanks, Ridiculosity!

"I'm going home." He looked so defeated, but Io couldn't bring herself to sympathise. Arule hoisted that awful Morrigan-embossed box up under his arm and nodded. "Alright, then."

They were stood in the Entrance Hall, surrounded by Arule's trunks and bags and boxes, and Io was staring fiercely and determinedly at Arule's clean school shoes, instead of at his slumped, freckled face.

"Goodbye, I guess," she mumbled, sticking her hands into her robe pockets. She had an exam in ten minutes, but that didn't matter.

"You've got Darwin," Arule said hopefully, and Io scowled at the floor.

"Thanks."

"I'll be back after Easter. To watch you play Quidditch!" Like he'd ever cared before. Io sniffed and rubbed the bruise on her third knuckle with her thumb, unseen in her pocket. Arule rocked on his heels for a second. "Stay out of trouble, won't you?"

"Easy for you to say," Io bit back. She hated him when he was attempting pleasantry. At least when he snapped at her, she could justify shouting back. Arule's eyes flickered to the healing scar on her forehead, then her scuffed shoes, then her undone tie, and he nodded again.

"I'll see you...soon, then," he replied slowly, and then he hoisted the box under his arm, picked up his overnight bag, and turned his back on her.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The Care of Magical Creatures exam took place on the very edge of the Forest, supervised by both Hagrid and Kettleburn, and everything was prettily blooming, early for spring. 

Io took her place, where everything was laid out: they had to pick between a hedgehog and a Knarl, feed a Bowtruckle the right things from a selection, and use a Niffler to sniff out at least three shiny things from the big pile of dirt in the middle of the clearing.

It wasn't too hard, and it was the last exam, but then Kettleburn announced that their actual O.W.L would be a written paper, and the students gave a collective groan.

"This, however, will count towards your final grade," called Kettleburn over the disgruntled noise. "But I suggest you get revising, and furiously!"

They would have study periods in between lessons now, to sit in the library or huddle beneath their cloaks by the lake or hunch over books by the common room fires.

James liked to spend them wherever Lily spent them, and Sirius and Peter followed him wherever, which made studying with the girls almost impossible. Io therefore took to carrying her books into her bed, curling up with Jude, and soon succumbing to the warm sleepiness of her room.

Sirius, on the other hand, soon got bored of dragging his books around after James, soon got bored of studying altogether, and instead he wheedled Peter into following him all around the castle to 'have some fun'. They were soon chased away from the staff room and the kitchens and the Slytherin common room, and so they took the stairs to the Astronomy tower instead.

Sirius, with a bag of huge red cherries hidden beneath his jacket, stared out at the chilled afternoon sky, and his mouth watered with adventure and the smell of fruit.

"Hey, Pete." Peter looked up from his share of cherries, deep red juice smeared all over his lips.

"Yeah?"

"What say you we take this a little higher?" Sirius craned his head, pressing his face against the glass of the window, then leant back to look out of the observatory glass in the ceiling. Peter frowned.

"Higher?"

"Higher," Sirius breathed, and he sprang to his feet and dashed to the store cupboard, flinging open the door and diving into its dark interiors. The ladder was stacked up against the far wall, so he had to crash and climb his way through piles and piles of telescopes, star charts, sextants, bolometers and other assorted instruments. 

Peter watched with trepidation from the door as Sirius seized the ladder and wound his way back through the mess he'd made, his prize swinging dangerously back and forth in his outstretched hands above his head.

"Through the roof?" Peter queried, sounding more than a little alarmed. Sirius squinted at him, as a particularly bright patch of cloud floated across the observatory ceiling.

"Come on, Wormy. Find your balls and help me put the ladder up, there's a good lad." Upon catching Peter's harder, more distressed look, Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes. "We'll be fine. I'll tie you to the tower if you're that worried. Anyways, wouldn't want James to know you're a wuss, eh?"

"I'm not a wuss," Peter defended suddenly, almost angrily, and Sirius grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's what I thought. Come on, help me set this up."

They assembled the ladder with their wands, and when it was done, Sirius practically scampered up it to make it to the glass door in the roof of the tower. He wriggled it open, flung it wide, and disappeared onto the wind-bared glass. Peter deliberated for a second, then pulled himself together and followed.

The observatory glass was a dome, with a three-foot wide ledge at the bottom that offered an uninhibited view over the castle, the lake, the mountains, the forest, the whole damn sky. Sirius kicked his feet lazily over the edge and grinned over at Peter, who was pale-faced and pressed back against the dome.

"Scared?" Sirius teased, popping a cherry in his mouth, and Peter closed his eyes. "Come on, Wormtail. Come look at the view, it's fantastic!" The wind was freezing this high up, wet from the clouds and sharp as a knife, but Sirius didn't care. It stung his cheeks a bright red and dragged tears from his eyes, and he spat away the cherry stone and grinned.

"Can we go back now?" Peter whined from behind him, and Sirius rolled his eyes again.

"Peter, I'm getting second-hand embarrassment. Look at you: sitting there, pissing your pants."

"I'm not pissing my pants," he squeaked.

"Could have fooled me. Come sit," Sirius said, patting the ledge beside him. "There's some sixth years down there. Up for a bit of sport?" Peter took a few deep breaths and started to inch forward, shuffling on his bum, until his feet were sticking out over the empty air, buffeted this way and that by the wind. Sirius smiled, his hair whipping manically into his face. "Alright! I'll keep score, then. Whoever gets to twenty hits first, wins. Ready?" They both popped a cherry down the hatch, and when the fruit was gone and the stone remained, they leant down, narrowing their eyes against the cold air, and spat the stones right down at the studying sixth years in the courtyard below.

After they'd been playing for a while, surprisingly, Peter won, but then the wind got a little colder and the clouds got a little darker, and Sirius shivered and wondered aloud if they should go in.

Peter sighed with relief and scrambled shakily to the door, clattering down the ladder with trembling legs, and Sirius followed suit a little more gracefully.

"We should go and study," Peter said, wiping his red-stained hands on his robes, but Sirius made a rude noise.

"Absolutely not.” A wicked little smile flickered over his mouth like an afterthought, and he crossed to the door of the tower and motioned down at the stairs. “We’ve got all day to piss off people, and you want to spend it studying? I’m disappointed, Wormtail.” 

†††††††††††††††††††††

Edgar Bones lay in the Hospital Wing, in the day-dark, and his vision swam blankly, distorting the ceiling above him.

Pomfrey sat in her office, busily swirling around the room with one eye on the door, and Evan Rosier slipped into the Wing unnoticed. The floors, rough wood, muffled his steps, and the only occupant to watch his progress towards Edgar's bed was concussed and drowsy Emmett West.

Evan swept Edgar's curtain away with barely a whisper, and disappeared behind it, checking once over his shoulder before letting it fall into place once more.

"Hello, Edgar."

"Rosier?" Edgar was cross-eyed and sneering. Evan pulled a chair out and sat down, as Edgar struggled to lift himself to his elbows and squint. "What do you- fuck you. What do you want? Huh?" He was breathing hard now, agitated and kicking his covers away weakly. Evan carefully looked back through the white curtain, watching for moving shadows. Nothing. He turned back to Edgar.

"I want to help you."

"Fuck you," Edgar snarled, a light sheen of sweat starting to coat his forehead.

"Remember when they found Io Brewsam buried in the Forest?" Evan replied coolly, and Edgar stopped struggling, dizzily.

"No," he said harshly, and Evan nodded and inspected his clean fingernails.

"That's because I dug her out and carried her back. Ask her, if you want. Ask who put her there."

"I don't see her here to support that story," Edgar hissed. He was getting progressively more red in his thin face, and Evan thought best to hurry it along.

"Perring Unctus got expelled because he dragged her off to die. Sound familiar?"

"Mulciber's not expelled, yet."

"Not yet," Evan said, leaning forward on his elbows. "They're out for your blood, Bones. And your family's blood. Do you want me to get him expelled?" Edgar swallowed like he'd been force-fed something nasty.

"He didn't try to kill me," he whimpered after a second.

"Do you want me to get him expelled?" Evan repeated harshly.

"He didn't try to kill me!" Edgar snapped back. "He was my- friend."

"Surprising what friends can turn into, isn't it?" Evan replied.

"What do you want?" Edgar whined, crumpling onto his pillows. Evan checked his watch, glanced over his shoulder once more.

"You don't want Mulciber gone?"

"He wouldn't- he won't hurt anyone else," Edgar said helplessly. "What do you want?" Evan nodded. Easy, really. He _could_ have gotten rid of Mulciber, but this was tidier, easier. Besides, Mulciber may have been a pain in the neck, but he was reliable, silent, and deep in the cause.

"Edgar, listen to me. You had a fight, alright? With Mulciber. Tell Dumbledore you had a fight with Mulciber, yeah? That's it. Now stay away from everything." Edgar nodded, far too many times, his face now a strange sort of blue. Like he'd been hiding his breath too long. "Promise?"

"Promise," Edgar breathed. Evan surveyed his face, but he didn't seem to be lying, and so he stood to go, happy with the result. Dumbledore was sneaky, cunning, masked as a senile old fool until you got too close. Evan was narrow in ways Dumbledore was not, however, and everything was working so far. If Dumbledore couldn't see the empire Evan was building, it would grow like a brilliant parasite right under his nose, right up until it was too late.

Evan left the Hospital Wing, and Emmett West watched him go with glazed, uninterested eyes.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The Slytherin versus Wampus match provided an incredible turnout: most of Gryffindor turned up ready to see Slytherin lose, and most of Hufflepuff stood on the Slytherin side of the pitch with green and silver banners and hollering voices.

It was close, too; Lucy Renshaw, star of the match, just barely stopped the Wampus Seeker from getting the Snitch at least three times throughout the match with a few very well-placed Bludgers. 

The Slytherin score climbed and climbed, leaving Wampus in the dust, but Slytherin Seeker Regulus Black was not at the match, and the reserve, Cody Houghton, was a disaster of a player.

Eventually, with Slytherin a hundred and forty points in the lead, the Wampus Seeker saw the Snitch once more and dove, and Cody deliberated a second longer, then followed. The crowd watched the players with breathless focus, Lucy Renshaw sent a Bludger hurtling downwards, and then the Wampus Seeker snatched the Snitch out of the air, Cody flew into Lucy's Bludger, Slytherin groaned magnanimously, and the game was over.

Later on, Sirius hopped onto the table in the Gryffindor common room with a glass of who-knows-what, and toasted the entire room. Io watched him, doused in firelight, and half-drunk on anticipated victory, and he cocked her a secret look.

"To the hope that Gryffindor house, 'specially our special ones, 'specially," he slurred, "will whip America's goddamn arses in the final match to come!"

"Hail Gryffindor!" screeched Peter, crashing into Sirius's side, and the common room echoed him, albeit mournfully, as many of them were still attempting to study. 

Sirius hopped off the table and staggered to where Io and Remus were going over the uses of Wormwood, in the corner, away from the noise. Io sighed, without conviction, and Sirius gave them both sloppy grins.

"Moony, my love," he said, sniffing the air. "Iona, my _queen_..." Io returned to her textbook and tried to pretend she was thinking about Evan Rosier's mystery, Edgar Bones in the bed one over, groaning at night, and the other names for Wormwood, instead of the way Sirius was drunkenly staring, straight into her eyes. 

"Bugger off, would you?" Remus said with a grin, shoving playfully at Sirius's knee.

"No, my love. I am here to stay." And he threw himself down, and for the rest of the night, Io avoided his gaze. If only so she couldn't think about all the things she wasn't allowed to: namely, Sirius Black and his rough voice and his boyish curls and his little wicked smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old Peggy Carter voice: it's been _so_ l o ng
> 
> Soooo I hope you liked it! Sorry it was short, more to come soon hopefully!


	35. Peonies, Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily's favourite flowers are not what anyone would expect. The Hufflepuff and Pukwudgie game yields to much worse than the Ilvermorny victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I HAD intended to have the Tournament as a big thing in this story, but honestly there's way too much going on. My b, the last match will be quality Quidditch, though!
> 
> Also the points thing and matches don't really make sense but it's complicated!! I'm sorry!
> 
> A lot of this chapter parallels the Chamber Of Secrets, look out for the Easter eggs! (They're not that hard to find though lmao)
> 
> I'm almost on 1100 hits! I know it's not that great but MILESTONES!! they're a big thing for me so thank youuuu ♥️♥️

"Io, please. I'm begging. Look at me, I'm begging. I'm on my knees and everything!"

"I don't give a shit," Io replied carelessly, dipping her quill back into her pot. "If you want to know so badly, ask her yourself."

"I'm asking _you_ , in _confidence_ ," James said, taking care to articulate every word, clambering back into his seat properly, and Io sighed and set down her quill. Sirius grinned from the other side of James, head on his arm and his hair slipping over his forehead, the sun bouncing over his skin. Io ignored him.

"Even if I did know Lily's favourite flower," she started, "I wouldn't tell you just for the pleasure of watching you make a fool of yourself." James wilted dramatically. "Besides-" Io turned back to her essay, picking her quill up again- "she's my friend and I won't be instrumental in letting you harass her like some kind of idiot in love."

"I'm not in love," James scoffed, and Remus snorted indelicately from behind them. "Shut up, Moony."

"So sorry, Potter," Remus replied. "That time of the month, is it?"

"You would know," James said coyly, throwing a look at Remus over his shoulder. Remus hit him in the face with his four-inch-thick textbook, James' glasses cracked in two, Sirius whooped and lunged for Peter's ruler to smack James, and the study session descended into chaos. Io returned to her essay with a sigh.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"You left Christmas lunch," Io hissed as she slid into the seat beside Evan at lunch. He was alone, and the chatter and business of the Great Hall hid them like a cloak.

"I am at perfect liberty to go wherever I please," Evan replied smoothly.

"Don't bullshit me," Io breathed, barely refraining from leaping across the table and throttling him. Evan spooned mashed potato into his mouth innocently, and Io wrinkled her nose. She hadn't spoken to him since the Hornby and Greenhouse Incident, and she had rather a lot of furious questions. "You left Christmas lunch, you came after Hornby with your damn cronies, and I want to know exactly what you've got Regulus and Severus on, alright? I'm tired of you being a whining little lizard, and I want answers."

Evan took another mouthful of mashed potato, seemingly unbothered.

Then after a while, he said, coolly, "Or what?" Io stared at him.

"Or I'll tell Dumbledore you tried to murder me," she snapped. Evan slowly set down his fork.

"I don't know anything about Black," he started. Io raised an eyebrow. "I don't," Evan insisted. "And Snape never does anything except trail after that Evans girl and never wash his hair."

"You'd better be sure," Io growled. Evan narrowed his eyes.

"Why would I lie to you, Iona dear?"

"Why'd you come after Hornby?" Io snapped, ignoring his little grin.

"I have to get mixed up in a _few_ of their little schemes, or they'd get suspicious," Evan said with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't trust you as a double agent," Io replied haughtily.

"You will," he said, short and simple.

"What about Christmas?"

"Malfoy called me."

" _Called_ you?" Io snorted. "He lives in bloody France most of the time!"

"Floo," Evan replied. His eyes darted once over her left shoulder, then returned to her face.

"And what did he have to say?" Io challenged. Evan's eyes hardened somewhat, they turned stonier and colder and far away, and Io leant back involuntarily.

"He wanted to have a little chat about Albi," Evan spat out bitterly, and Io's gut twisted with- what? Guilt? Empathy? She swallowed nausea. Evan gripped the table with one hand and looked down at his plate, somewhat green-faced. "He wanted to talk about a man called Rookwood, Barty Crouch Senior, and Tom Riddle's god-fucked Knights of Walpurgis. Wouldn't say his name, but I knew who it was." Evan sucked breath through his teeth and closed his eyes, ever so slowly. The first time she'd ever heard him swear. How fitting. "Malfoy's a coward, but he's in deep, and he's dangerous."

"Think I don't know that?" Io replied roughly, covering her shaken voice, but Evan shook his head.

"Deeper than you think. Bellatrix, too. Avery. Rowle."

"Yaxley?" Io pressed. "Or is he like you?" Evan shrugged.

"I don't know," he breathed. "I can't read Yaxley well. If I had to guess, though, I'd say he was in for Finn Rowle. Only for Rowle." He ran one long finger over the knuckles of his opposite hand, opened his mouth to speak. Closed it again. Io watched him curiously, as he seemed to battle with the desire to say something.

"What?" she pressed. Evan frowned at the tabletop, sealed his lips together, struggled to look up.

"I went to see Edgar Bones," he blurted, and then he twitched his face away, like he'd been caught in a lie, in a mistake. So unlike Evan. He screwed his face up and sighed again. "I went to see him in the Hospital Wing. That was who was in the bed next to you."

"He was on Emma's list," Io ground out. "Before I took her to Dumbledore and she confessed, she told me who was on the hit list. The Bones family. Big in law enforcement."

"I guess she was right."

"You guess?" Io hissed, fury rising. "These are people's _lives_ , Evan. Their minds. Their blood and their families! You can't _guess_!"

"Alright," he snapped back. "Calm down."

"We need to stop them," Io breathed.

"I've been trying," Evan replied, sparing her a single glance.

"Not hard enough." Io ignored Evan's annoyed twitch. "They do this shit when people are looking the other way. Jane, on the Hogwarts Express. Edith, late, when everyone was in houses. Sirius and me, at the dance. Edgar, after the match."

"No," Evan said slowly. Io frowned.

"What?"

"No." He looked straight at her this time, one eyebrow tucked slightly down. "No, they do it when _certain_ people are looking the other way. On the train, Lily Evans and Emmeline Vance were the first to find the Whittle girl. You weren't there, they had to come and get you. And Whittle's friends weren't looking out for her. Hobday and Vanity took advantage of that." Something sick and awful curled in Io's chest. She'd been out of the way, so they'd gone for Jane. Because she was small and inconspicuous and barely popular.

"Oh, fuck." She sunk her head into her hands. "Christ." Evan smoothed a hand over his hair, frowning once more.

"Edith Li: you were at Quidditch practice. All the Prefects were finishing their rounds. No one was on that floor. You and Black: everyone _was_ at the dance, including Lily Evans and Remus Lupin and a host of excellent duellers." 

"They really plan this?" Io asked weakly, from behind her fingers.

"You really thought that explosion in Albi was spur of the moment, did you?" Evan said, his tone nasty. Io felt a cold shot of electricity tumble down her spine.

"So you're admitting it was them?" She ignored the shiver rippling over her arms. If they could branch all the way to France, they could get to London. To Daisy.

"Who else would murder hundreds of Muggles?" Evan snapped. Io looked at him, studied him, really tried to push her gaze beneath his skin this time. He was closed off and he was slippery and he was clever, but she had to know if she could trust him. She'd taken many a downfall before, but this time, there would be no sharp drop and sudden stop. There would be trust, or there would be no Evan Rosier. "What?" he growled, after a second.

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes," he replied, and he was very still. He kept his eyes on hers. His pupils were steady, his eyelids were slow, and his jaw was loose. If she thought she knew what a lie looked like, this would be a hell of a way to test it. "Do you want to know why?"

"Shoot," Io said, still watching him. Waiting for a slip-up.

"Because this is a damn risk, Io, and you've already taken it. Which means you already trust me." There was one pause, a single short hiatus, and it dangled tantalisingly between them. And then Io smiled. All teeth. She hadn't meant to, but it had sprung itself upon her.

Because he was right.

†††††††††††††††††††††

The next study period was two hours long, and Io barely managed to get through it without slamming her head into a wall. Lily, on the other hand, was perfectly focused all the way through, curved over her work with her messy sheet of auburn hair hanging down to the table and slicing the space around her into privacy.

"Evans," Io hissed, chin in her palm, her Arithmancy exercise smudging beneath her elbow. Lily grunted. "What's your favourite flower?" There was a deliberation in which Lily fiercely dotted a full stop, and then she set her quill down and threw her hair over her shoulder to offer Io a piercingly green look.

"Excuse me?" she said, sounding almost exasperated. Across the table, Alice dozed on her arm, tongue sticking out of her mouth.

"Favourite flower," Io repeated, mumbling around her hand.

"Why?" Lily whined. She gestured quickly at her work with wide, desperate eyes, and Io huffed.

"I wanna know."

"Peonies, I guess?" Lily spluttered, still looking utterly thrown, and then she sighed and bent back over her work.

"Oh," Io said after a second. Then, "Not lilies?" And Lily growled in frustration.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Peonies?" Sirius said in disgust. " _Peonies_?"

"Not lilies?" asked Peter, and Io shook her head gravely.

"Not petunias?" Remus asked, with a little grin, and Io shoved him.

"Shut up. You probably already knew, anyway. You two know everything about each other."

"Believe it or not, most friends don't discuss their favourite flowers," Remus replied.

"I can't believe you're friends with her," James muttered, from over on Sirius' bed. "And you won't even help me!"

"That's because you can't be helped, Prongs," Sirius said, taking a running jump and leaping onto James' stomach. There was a groan of bedsprings and a bleat of a displeased James, and then the two boys were wrestling over the duvet, laughing and panting.

"Knock it off," Peter complained, launching his book at them. "I'm trying to revise!" The book hit James in the shoulder, knocking off his glasses, and he yelled, flailing, and accidentally pushed Sirius's things off the bedside table.

"And you're doing a wonderful job, Wormy," Sirius wheezed, raising a bedraggled head from where James had him pinned against the backboard. "Prongs, put my stuff back up."

"Oo, make me, baby," James wailed, in a strange approximation of a womanly voice, squinting down at Sirius, who was still wriggling underneath James' pinning arms. Io snorted and leant back against Peter's pillows, quite content to watch her friends make fools of themselves.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Duelling Club that evening was full of the Ilvermorny students, who'd started to discover the extracurriculars, and Io surveyed them all nervously as she walked in with Sirius. She was almost at the top of the Senior's leaderboard, and hadn't counted on having quite so many competitors this time. (Last week, she'd beat out Andrew Yeung, Head Boy hopeful, for fifth place, and she was quite looking forward to maintaining a lead.)

The room was high-ceilinged, but full of people and very noisy, and it made Io somewhat itchy.

"Getting cold feet, are we?" teased Sirius, spinning his wand around his fingers. He was in fourth place, and had enjoyed lording it over Io for the last few days, but Io was adamant to beat him this time. Just so long as she didn't have to take on an Ilvermorny student first: she'd heard a lot of them were quite good at silent spells.

"Not on your life," she shot back, hoisting a grin onto her face. "I'm ready to beat you, little mister pureblooded, private-tutored McGonagall's boy." Sirius wrinkled his nose at her as they approached the match sheets.

"We'll see."

"Yeah, we will," Io murmured, scanning the parchments quickly. There! Iona Morrigan-Brewsam versus Sirius Black. First match, as well. Io grinned to herself, rolling her wand around in her pocket. This was going to be a hell of a duel.

The rules were:

1\. Spells to disarm only

2\. Curses strictly forbidden

3\. No shots meant for the head

4\. If a rebound hit, it counted at a point to the other person

"Brewsam and Black, take the stage," called Flitwick, mounted on a podium at the opposite end of the long room. The busy chatter dissolved into silence and Sirius offered Io one last wide smile before climbing the stairs to the stage. Io's heart flipped, and then she steeled it down with hard courage, and took to the stairs herself, the student crowd parting around her.

The stage was long and midnight blue, a thin, soft carpet scattered with glittering stars. Ideal for grip and movement. There was a wide yellow circle in the middle, where they would meet and bow. Io took her place at the opposite end of the stage to Sirius, and even from her side, she could see his cocksure expression.

Not today. Today, Sirius Black was going to meet his reckoning, that much she promised.

"Draw your wands," Flitwick croaked, leaning forward over his podium precariously. Io whipped her wand out sharply. Sirius drew his with more caution. "Proceed to the centre circle," Flitwick commanded.

They started to march forward, Io marching Sirius step for step, closer and closer until they were in he's apart. The room was holding its breath. The circle shine beneath them, casting a gleam beneath Sirius's chin.

Io thought of the buttercup game, out in the meadows with Daisy. 

Sirius licked his lips and readied himself, eyes bright, like he was holding back.

"Wands up!" Up whipped the wands, swishing through the air. Sirius grinned once more at Io, his face halved by the delicately carved wood of his wand. His eyebrow lifted slightly.

"Scared, Brewsam?"

"You _wish_ ," Io breathed, fixing her gaze perfectly straight, right at his darkened grey eyes.

"Bow!" Sirius leant forwards deeply, flicking one hand behind his back, extravagant and mocking. Io bowed stiffly, stacked spine and eyes still on Sirius. "Return to the starting position." They turned their backs on each other and started the long walk back. Even facing away from Sirius, Io could keep her steps in time with him. He was long-legged, and loping.

They reached their respective ends of the stage, and as Io turned back around, her heart beat like a drum, shivering with every pulse, rounding out a rhythm against her ribs. Nothing to do with the smile at the corner of Sirius' mouth.

"Wands at the ready!" called Flitwick. Io rearranged her feet into a stance and gripped her wand. Heat shot through it, excited, ready to dance. "Three, two, one!"

"Expelliarmus!" roared Sirius, and Io swayed backwards, deflecting the shot of red light off the side of her wand. She regained her footing and raised her wand once more, but Sirius was fast, and a Stunning spell shot past her ear.

"Confundo!" she commanded, swirling the tip of her wand, and the spell, fast and sharp, hit Sirius on the shoulder, glancing off his arm. 

He stumbled, and Io shot a hex at him, pink and flowery, barely knowing what it was, and then Sirius tripped, rolled, and threw another Stun at her. 

Io ducked, and the heat seared the top of her head at the spell soared above her.

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted. Sirius blocked it with a Shield Charm, quick, but weak. "Langlock!" That spell hit Sirius square in the chest, and he stepped back, shaking his head back and forth. Io didn't let up. She put out two more Disarming Charms in quick succession, which Sirius only just managed to block, and then finally- "Stupefy!" He didn't have time to cast a Shield Charm. The red light hit him under the arm and he fell instantly, loose and cold, into the carpet.

Io lowered her wand. Some sort of heat was disappearing from her chest, shaking adrenaline flushing through her fingers and her lungs.

The room was cheering and shouting, and money was (secretly) swapping hands. Flitwick was clapping over at the podium, and the air was full of smoke and the smell of ozone. 

Io blinked, waterlogged, dazed for a second, surfacing from a fit of excitement, a snatch of danger. The noise roiled in her ears and she shook her head, tucked her wand away, and rushed to Sirius's side.

He was angelic, spread over the carpet like that. Hair a halo of black, cheeks a delicate white. Three girls were already fussing over him, kneeling by his head, and Io shoved through them impatiently to shake him roughly awake. 

Sirius blinked slowly, agonisingly weary, and raised his head from the carpet.

"Hello, ladies," he said, tired lips and glazed eyes.

"You're welcome," Io replied, sitting back on her heels.

"Was about to give you the kiss of life, Black," said one of the girls, and another one giggled. Sirius raised his eyebrows, grinning with pleasant surprise, and he winked at Io. She rolled her eyes and stood, brushing off her jeans.

"How about later?" Sirius asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows and offering the girl a little wink. She grinned, red-cheeked.

"It's a date."

"I'll see you classroom 3C," Sirius said. Utterly serious. Io crossed her arms and looked away impatiently, and the girl laughed and then the group scattered and it was just the two of them. Sirius sprawled across the floor, and Io standing victorious.

For half a second, she wondered, what if he had taken her down? Would she have woken to his face, triumphant and insufferable, his hands on her shoulders as he shook her awake? Then the thought was gone, and she forgot it, or rather, she dug a hole and buried it like a dog with a bone. That was what one did with secrets.

"Congratulations," Sirius said, shaking his head ruefully. "You win." Io plastered a grin across her face and offered him a hand, and she didn't flush or wonder when he took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Don't cry about it, Black. There's always next time. I'll be waiting for a challenge, yeah?" And she grinned back at his offended gape, and walked away. Down the stairs, into the crowd. Away from Sirius Black.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Hufflepuff versus Pukwudgie was an incredible match, or so Sirius would hear, when he got around to asking. 

It was the morning of the day after Io's Duelling Club triumph, and although he had promised Florence Pettiford that he would attend, at the time of the match, he was slightly caught up with Benjy Lockley in a nice quiet corridor on the fourth floor.

It wasn't like the match was important.

Besides, Benjy's hair was soft and thick and nice to hold, and his lips were, quite frankly, intoxicating.

It was the principle of the thing, Sirius decided, as Benjy pressed a bruising kiss into the side of Sirius' neck. The principle of doing many things that would disgust his mother and father, maybe even to the point of death by shock. Wouldn't that be fun...

But it was also the taste of something fiery and brilliant on Benjy's lips, maybe the grip of his fingers on Sirius' thigh and waist, maybe the sounds Benjy made when Sirius pulled on his hair.

It was good hair.

Not as good as Sirius's, but then, nothing could ever compete.

And it was a good kiss.

"Distracted?" Benjy asked, with a hard nick of teeth at the base of Sirius' neck. Sirius bit back an embarrassing gasp.

"Not at all," he managed.

"Going to kiss me?"

"Get up here, and I will." Benjy straightened his knees, sliding one hand up over Sirius's back, and then his eyes, brown and green and everything in between, were glittering right close to Sirius's face, full of the heat of promise and something not quite like desire.

Too young for desire, maybe.

Sirius leant forwards and kissed him, and it wasn't the principle this time. It was just Benjy's lips and hands and hot breath on Sirius' face.

He was dreaming on the way back to Gryffindor Tower. Tripping over his own feet, tongue tied and grinning type of dreaming. Benjy had made it clear this was a one time thing, but it didn't make it any different; Sirius was as high and dazed as he always was whenever he'd been tucked away in a corner with someone, it didn't matter who.

But Benjy was _good_. Benjy was beautiful and mischievous and an even better kisser than Katelin Froth, and that was saying something. Benjy had Sirius Black in a ridiculous state, which wasn't an often occurrence.

"Black?" someone called, and Sirius snapped out of it instantly, loosely registering that his lace was untied. Suddenly, he itched to tie it up again, but that wasn't important right now because _Mulciber_. Mulciber was staring, ghoul-like, at Sirius from the opposite end of the corridor. His strong face was twisted and frowning. Sirius's fingers twitched to his wand.

"What do you want?" he asked, quickly, ignoring the croak in his voice. Mulciber's hand was in his pocket. Sirius let apprehension prepare him, settling him into the jumpy sting of excitement before a fight. But Mulciber just turned, rounded the corner, and walked away. Sirius blinked. Relaxed, if only slightly.

But Mulciber didn't return, and Sirius kept walking, his thoughts on a different track now.

What on earth? Mulciber was silent and serious, not ghostly and paranoid.

And that sting, that fighting readiness. He knew it well enough by now, fizzing in his bones whenever he whipped out his wand.

But he hadn't recognised it last night, while duelling Io. It hadn't been there. He knew, somewhere inside, why, but that wasn't a question for today. Not after Benjy. Maybe not ever. (He'd watched her eyes glint like cool marble, and there had been no fighting fizz in him.)

But he hadn't let her win, not certainly.

Sirius stuffed his hands in his pockets, his mind spinning uselessly, eyes on his untied lace, whipping the floor sharply with every step. 

_Whoosh._

Sirius yelled and danced sideways, a freezing wash of air cloaking him suddenly, and he scrubbed his arms frantically, trying to get rid of the goosebumps, and the he turned and the Fat Friar stared bug-eyed back at him, frozen in place. Sirius stilled.

"Friar?" he whispered. Through the Friar's translucent robes, splayed out on the floor in all his muddy Quidditch finery, Tom Denvers stared glassily at the ceiling. "Denvers?" His feet were iced to the floor. His eyes were glued to Tom's. Footsteps, distant through a haze of terror, of sureness, and then there were people, there were gasps and sobs and shouts.

Still, Sirius didn't move. Tom glared with still anger, eyes frozenly fixed in one place.

It had started again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Chadwick Boseman. You were the best of us, the strongest and the kindest, and you deserve to rest in power and in peace. The world is a lesser place without you.
> 
> A thread of charities to donate to in honour of Chadwick Boseman:  (x)
> 
> 🙏👑


	36. Bunnies And Braids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius gets bored easily. Luckily, Lily has a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For context, Zel is Muggle born

"Albus, this is not out of hand. This is far beyond that! We _must_ shut the school!"

"I cannot close Hogwarts!" Albus roared suddenly, eyes flaming from frost to ice, shocking her into silence. Minerva stood still, gave no ground, and folded her hands in front of her. Albus stalked to the fire and lit it with a careless flick of his wand. "I cannot close Hogwarts," he repeated, gravely. The fire danced over his creased face, glittered in his beard, hollowed out his eyes. Minerva took a breath to try a gentler tack.

"There has been injury, Albus. Almost mortal injury. Threats. Petrification. Soon, it will lead to death. If not close the school, we must _act_. The students are not safe." He didn't answer. He raised a hand, leaning it on the mantle piece, and sighed, his shoulders curving and sagging with the weight of a single breath. Once again, the fire leapt, but this time the light caught on his robes, the orange of the flames glowing and turning his blue robes a bloody colour.

Minerva watched him, as he stared heavily into the fire, and finally, having had enough, she spoke.

"So what will you have me do, Albus?" she asked, spreading her hands in what she hoped was an appropriation of suggestion. Albus turned away from the fire, fast, and strode quickly to his desk instead of answering, snatching a quill and piece of parchment hurriedly from a drawer. Minerva watched, non-plussed.

"I will have you alert the Order," he commanded.

"Alert the Order?" Minerva stammered. "Albus, I couldn't possibly- they'll be worked off their feet already!"

"And what shall we do, then?" he replied, snapping his head up to stare straight at her. Minerva frowned.

"The Ministry, of course. The Aurors! Double the guard that we had last time-" Albus waved a hand erratically, like he was flicking away her concerns, and Minerva stared. He was shaken, quite obviously. Acting very strange.

"The Ministry can do no more for us-"

"I suppose you'd rather they investigate the school, then?" Minerva snapped, folding her robes tighter around her body. "We need security, Albus."

"We need no more distractions," Albus said. 

"We need protection for the children!"

"Minerva, we need to root out the heart of the problem," he hissed suddenly, pinching his fingers together, eyes alight with worry. "Hogwarts _must_ be safe. I cannot gamble with any more lives, with weakened security and loose curfews! Hogwarts is _sick_ , and the students are paying for it!" They held a similar stare for a few seconds: Albus wide-eyed and golden in the half light of the window, Minerva huddled beneath her own robes.

Eventually, she nodded.

"An owl to the Order, then. As you wish, Headmaster." She nodded stiffly, offered him one last cursory glance, and then swept from his office. He knew what he was doing. She could only hope that Hogwarts would rise with him.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Zel was paper-faced and shivering when Io found her at breakfast the next morning.

"I'm going home," Zel announced, barely before Io had even sat down. "I'm leaving. Sorry." And she stared down at her plate, chewing on her lip. Io nodded.

"Fair enough. Write to me?" she asked. Zel just sighed.

"Yeah." Then she buried her face in her hands, messing up her short hair and giving a short groan. "Madame Pomfrey said he'd be okay," she said, muffled, and Io stared guiltily down at her own plate. "Just petrification. But I can't stay a second longer, I can't."

"No one's asking you to," Io said softly. "What will you do about exams?" Zel hoisted her sleeve over her palm and rubbed her eye with it, sniffing back tears. 

"I'll be back by then," she promised. "God..." and she shook once more. "I forget I'm different, you know?" she said, with a bitter smile, eyes glazed and staring some three feet to Io's left. "Even with the newspapers, and all that shit going on outside. I mean, it's not like you can _see_ it."

"I'm so sorry, Zel," Io tried. Zel shrugged. Glittering eyes and fingernails digging into her palms.

"It's nothing to do with you. Can't help who you're born as, right?" She sighed again. "I spent a whole week just straining not to think about Mae and Pa, down in Paris. I wondered if they'd get that far." She pushed her plate away. "I'm going to the Hospital Wing to see Tom, then I'm getting on the train the hell away from here." Her eyes were like stone, furious and a little scared, and Io nodded.

"I'll see you soon, then. Want me to send you notes from Arithmancy?"

"It's okay. I've got Dirk on the case. Look after yourself, alright? And everyone else. Little Mary McDonald."

"You got it," Io replied, and leant in to hug Zel. They separated after a second, Zel gazing vacantly down at her shoes, and then she turned her back and left.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"But you're staying for the holidays, right? It's only in two days!" Peter exclaimed, stretched out on the floor of the bathroom.

"Get off the floor, Pete, it's dirty," James said. He leant forward to check his hair in the cracked mirror and Sirius, draped over the sink and drawing mournfully on a cigarette, grinned with half his mouth.

"Yeah, grow up, Wormtail."

"It's too hard on Pomfrey," Remus said, ignoring the other two. 

"It is not," Sirius snorted. Remus cast him a reprimanding look, and Sirius just winked at him.

"What about Ozy?" Peter whined. "They're staying, right? That means you have to stay."

"Ozy's going home," Remus replied lazily. “For once.” Sirius tipped his head back and blew a heady cloud of smoke into the damp bathroom air.

"Aren't they leaving at the end of the year?" James asked carelessly, scrubbing the back of his head with his fingertips to make it stand up.

"Yeah," Remus said, a little gloomy. "They want to be around their family a bit more."

"Can't relate," Sirius giggled, slumping untidily against the taps. "Oi, Prongs. Don't suppose Evans is staying, do you?"

"She is," Remus said, before Sirius could speculate any further, and James straightened, a gleam in his eye.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Remus replied, with a quirk of his eyebrows. “Don’t go chasing her around the castle all holiday, will you? She’s getting enough trouble.”

“Well, now you’ve ruined my plans, Moony,” James replied dramatically, snatching Sirius’ cigarette and heaving on it himself. Sirius batted weakly at James’ hands and James slapped him away. “Come on, don’t look at me like that. Who’ll be laughing when I finally get the girl?”

†††††††††††††††††††††

“James is staying for the holidays,” Io announced, throwing herself down on her bed and starting to rifle through her drawer. Lily slammed her book down on the floor and ripped off her glasses.

“Oh, for _God’s sake_!” she growled. Mary looked over the edge of her comic book with large round eyes.

“Come off it, Lily,” Alice said, sucking on the end of her quill as she attempted to finish an essay. “You still hang around with Snape and he’s just as bad.”

“That’s different,” Lily replied almost waspishly. “Sev is my friend. Potter is an idiot with a broomstick and a death wish, by the looks of things.” Io swept a pile of Daisy’s drawings to the side of the drawer and frowned, barely listening to the exchange. Her mother’s letter wasn’t in there. Neither was her father’s. She didn’t recall taking either of them out, and quite suddenly, panic thrummed in her heart. Who would care enough to steal her personal letters? Not someone with kind intentions, that she was sure of.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Spring bloomed late that Easter, sighing and waking wistfully just as most of the students disappeared home for the holidays. The Willow wept wound-shaped green leaves on every thin tendril of a branch, the daffodils in the greenhouses began to test their honking voices, and fist-sized daisies sprouted on the Quidditch pitch, scattered carelessly across the grass like cheerful snow.

And with spring came the boredom of Sirius Black.

Io had been anticipating this. They all had. Easter was the holiday to spend desperately revising for O.W.L.s, surrounded by books and loose bits of parchment. It was the holiday of ink stained hands and quiet spells and serenity, and Sirius loved none of these things. His coping mechanism, therefore, was to create and incite as much chaos as possible in as short a time as possible and this was a surefire way of making sure no one got any work done, least of all him.

In Sirius’ defence, it wasn’t like Io or James were getting any work done, either, but Peter this time flat-out refused to join in. Io called it his character arc, James called it ‘probably a good idea, actually,’ and Sirius called it ‘wuss work’.

Io had grown tired of work after barely an hour, and James had been frightened off from the library by Rio’s famous glare, so at five in the afternoon, three mischievous figures crept from the Gryffindor common room, sharing a grin and a cigarette and ignoring the disapproving glares of various paintings. They didn’t get very far.

“What on _earth_ are you three _doing_?” stormed a sudden, exasperated voice from a balcony two storeys above them, and the group whipped around, the cigarette dropping and hissing into extinguishment against the marble of the stairs. Dorcas Meadowes surveyed them quizzically from her advantageous height, and James began to launch into an elaborate cover-up.

“...needed to comfort Io, you see, she’s beyond herself, distraught, one could say, we just couldn’t showcase it to the entire common room, Meadowes. You know what Gryffindors are like, eh? McKinnon, am I right?” And he winked. Dorcas stared. Io groaned under her breath and James tried to quickly rearrange his face into innocence.

“You had to mention her fuck buddy,” Sirius muttered, in barely a whisper, and Io struggled to keep a straight face. “You’re meant to be distraught, Brewsam,” he carried on, out of the side of his mouth, and Io hip-checked him softly.

“Gotta get going, then,” James said brightly, just as Dorcas opened her mouth again, and he swung to the left sharply, scuffing the cigarette quickly over the side of the staircase as he did so. Sirius grabbed Io’s elbow, vice-like, and the three of them hurried off down a side corridor, faces straining to keep from laughing.

“ _Idiot_ ,” Io spluttered, as soon as they were out of earshot, and Sirius burst into laughter, kicking a suit of armour as they passed. It rattled indignantly and brandished a sword, and Sirius dodged back, unfazed.

“McKinnon, am I right?” Sirius mocked, snatching James’ glasses away and balancing them precariously on his nose. “Brewsam’s simply _distraught_ , Meadowes, come now, _do_ let us go and comfort her!” Io sniggered.

“One of your worse cover stories, Potty,” Io crowed. “Since when do I need comforting from twats like you?” James pretended to be offended, leading them in a large curve back through the corridors to Gryffindor Tower.

“Io, you know I’d be you shoulder to cry on any day!” he exclaimed. Sirius snorted and burst into a rowdy rendition of Haggard’s _A Shoulder To Cry On_ as they neared the Fat Lady’s portrait, earning themselves a fond glare as they shoved each other down the corridor.

The portrait swung inward before they got there, and Gwenog climbed out, broom in hand and a frown on her face.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” she rapped, sweeping past them, and the three of them arranged themselves untidily into a mocking salute, side by side.

“Sir, yessir!” snapped James, squinting dizzily at her; Sirius still had his glasses, and Io restrained a giggle. Gwenog left, down the corridor with a suspicious glare on her face, and the three of them rushed for the portrait and piled through, laughing and wrestling. 

Inside the common room, Lily and Alice were bent over their books by the fire. At the table in the corner, Frank Longbottom was, shockingly, studying a Transfiguration book with a thoughtful, dazed look. Io doubted he was thinking about Transfigurations.

“Evans, _darling_ ,” Sirius crooned, dancing right up to the sofa and draping himself across the back. Lily pushed her reading glasses up her nose and studiously ignored him. "So simply marvellous to see you," Sirius carried on, droning and monotonous and ridiculously posh. "Must catch up one of these days, you know, over tea or something-"

"If you're bored, go and bother someone else," Lily replied, sounding about half an inch away from whacking him with her book. Sirius sighed drearily.

"But _Evans_ ," he whined, and Lily shut her book with a _snap_ and twisted violently around in her seat.

"Fine," she said. "Come on, you idiot. Sit down."

"What's going on?" Io asked, throwing herself down in the armchair with raised eyebrows. Sirius grinned like a toddler and scrambled to sit down on the floor, in front of Lily's knees. James felt his way blindly to the other end of the sofa and sat down, dizzily glaring Sirius's way.

"She's plaiting my hair!" Sirius exclaimed, shaking out his knotted waves. Lily grabbed a handful and raked her fingers through it harshly, eliciting a yelp from Sirius.

"Sit still."

"Yes, ma'am. Prongs, take your glasses back, you blind bat. I can't see a thing."

"Give them here," James said, snapping his fingers, and Sirius groped them off his face and flung them carelessly across in the general direction of James. Lily whacked Sirius gently on the ear, and he straightened his head again. She started to braid, careful and studious, the knots sticking to her fingers, and Io watched with a wide grin from her armchair.

"So smug, Brewsam," Sirius announced, after a quiet minute. James was watching Lily's hands intently. "What's that about?"

"You look like a kid," Io shot back.

"I am a kid," Sirius replied. Lily yanked his hair. "Ouch, Evans."

"Stay _still_."

"You didn't have to pull so hard."

"You didn't have to wiggle around."

"Wiggling? Wiggling? I _barely_ moved." The fire was a smouldering ember, the patches of crisp sunlight from the window warming the floor and the chairs. Alice dozed over her revision, and the gentle chatter of seventh years weaved in and out of Sirius and Lily's amicable bickering.

"Excited for Easter, Evans?" James asked hopefully. Lily spared him a glance and shrugged.

"I'm not religious. I do like a bit of chocolate, though." James nodded carefully, like she'd offered him a frail secret, and Sirius and Io shared a grin.

"Excited for Easter, Iona?" Sirius asked, subtly mocking James' voice.

"Gosh," Io said breathlessly. "Can't _wait_ , you know?" They both sniggered, and Lily and James pulled long-suffering faces.

"So why didn't you go home?" James asked, carefully rearranging his hair. Lily seized another hank of hair and twisted it into the plait, snorting when Sirius whined.

"I couldn't deal with my sister," she replied lightly. "What about you? Mummy and Daddy must be missing their baby boy, hm?" she teased. James reddened slightly.

"No. They're in Pakistan. Visiting some family. We don't celebrate Easter. Well, I eat chocolate and stuff, but Mummy- my mum and dad don't..." he trailed off, looking embarrassed, and picked at the flat nail of his thumb instead of looking at Lily. Lily flicked a wave of auburn hair over her shoulder and smiled at the cushion beneath James' knee.

"Lovely." An awkward, bone-brittle silence descended and Alice, who had just woken up, looked between Lily and James with palpable disappointment.

"Honestly," she muttered. James, obviously finding a way out, smirked.

"Okay, Prewett. Why are you still here, not screwing your boyfriend in his council flat, huh?" he prodded, and Alice offered him an unimpressed look. Lily, however, frowned.

"Don't be a prick," she snapped suddenly, and James slumped back into the sofa.

"Whatever," he mumbled, and the tentative silence between them was gone.

"You are _useless_ ," Io groaned, lolling her head around on the back of the armchair.

"Tell me about it," Sirius replied. "Hogsmeade tomorrow, anyone?"

"Ooh, yes!" Lily said, perking up. "I need some more parchment, Tilly keeps using it for enchanting paper aeroplanes."

"She's got the right idea," Sirius said. "What's life without a little fun, eh, Evans?" And he patted her knee. She hit his hand away.

"I'd rather stay away from your kind of fun," she replied. Io rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Lily. You've broken at least half the school rules. You just know how to get out of it. And who would ever suspect angelic, perfect, bright little Lily Evans?"

"You make your own problems, Brewsam," Lily said, with a devilish grin. "Remind me, who got Prefect this year? Let me see...not you!" Io snorted.

"Goody-two-shoes," she replied. Lily's eye twinkled.

"Oh, you don't know the _half_ of it. God, Black, will you just _stay still_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's boring...but it's fluff!! A rarity for me :)


	37. Mulciber Fucks Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Easter holidays is bittersweet for Sirius, especially with the full moon hanging over Remus's empty bed. Quidditch and a terrible incident sinks Io into a state. Evan Rosier is full of dilemmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy haha hhhhhints of wolfstar but we all know where this story is REALLY going lmao

It was plain-skyed and clear, the night of the full moon.

Sirius Black couldn’t sleep. Somewhere out in the dark, under the canvassed stars, Remus was transforming, pained and alone and maybe wistful, too. Somewhere away from here, Remus was changing, and it was this that was keeping Sirius awake. He was sat on some forsaken windowsill high up in the North Tower, in those awful silk pyjamas, knees clutched close to his chest to ward off the painful cold.

In two days, forty-eight hours, Remus would return, maybe pale and thin and sickly, with one or two or eight more scars. Holding up that tired smile, heavy like he was shouldering the whole world.

Sirius pined. He pined _hard_ , and he fell as he pined, but that was part of who he was. He loved certain people too much to just _not_ think about them.

The glass was frosting up with the steam from his breath, and his eyes were achingly tired. The moon glittered mockingly at him, too bright, too full, beautifully shiny through the window. Sirius hated the moon.

But all he had to do was hang on a little longer.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Evan was twitchy on the morning before the Gryffindor and Wampus match, and Io couldn't think for the life of her why.

She sat next to him at breakfast in her obnoxiously bright Gryffindor robes, and he barely acknowledged her: their knees touched under the table, and he twitched ever so slightly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying her best to ignore Sirius' glare from across the hall and Pucey's suspicious glance from down the table.

"Nothing," Evan replied, digging his fork into his scrambled eggs rather harder than necessary.

"They're planning some shit, aren't they?" Io hissed. "I can read you well enough by now."

"No, you can't. Why is your boyfriend staring at me?"

"Answer the question."

"Answer mine."

"I asked you first."

"I asked you...second."

"Rosier..."

"That's Evan to you," he said easily, and Io snatched away his fork just as he was about to load food into his mouth. Scrambled eggs scattered all over his lap and he sighed. "You're infantile." Io ate the remnants off his fork and licked her lips.

"Big words for a little boy," she teased, and he narrowed his eyes.

"I'm taller than you."

"Sirius isn't my boyfriend," she said, after a second, and Evan's lips twitched in amusement.

"So why is he staring?"

"He hates you."

"Heard that a time or two before," Evan replied, with an uncharacteristic snort. Io nudged his shoulder.

“Now you gotta tell me,” she said, and Evan looked at his plate. Io prodded him with her fork. “Come on. I’ve got pre-game in ten minutes.” He looked at her, and her teasing smile fell: his eyes were all but hollowed, and his mouth, turned down at the edges, trembled in a very un-Evan like way. “Evan?”

“You’re going to have to trust me, Io,” he said, after a second, shaking his head. A strand of dark hair had fallen out of his combed-over do. Io snorted.

“Trust you? You’ve got to be mental-“

“You just ate off my fork,” Evan interrupted impatiently. “You’re sitting right next to me, at the Slytherin table, in Gryffindor robes. You don’t seem to care that Bellatrix is eyeing you like a piece of meat. I’d even go so far as to say that we’re friends now, Io.” He looked at her, and she had the overwhelming urge to tuck that piece of hair away, tidy him up. Make him look more Evan. His shirt collar was rumpled. His tie was loosely knotted. It made her itch. He stared her straight in the eye. “Please, trust me.” Io blinked, covered with a disbelieving laugh, and pushed her plate away.

“Well fuck you, too. See you after the match, mate.” She stood, brushing egg off her robes and wondering if she shouldn’t have eaten off his fork. Was that weird? Evan nodded.

“I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” Io replied, grinning, and Evan rolled his eyes.

“I promise. Go on.” Io winked at him, bounced off her seat, and scampered from the Great Hall.

†††††††††††††††††††††

“Clouded today, team,” Gwenog announced, striding out onto the pitch with a gleam on her eye. She whipped her head around as James scuffed the ground with his broom tail. “I hope you’ve been working on your Quidditch prospects with McGonagall, Potter. You, too, Brewsam?” Io sucked on her teeth, cringing as she remembered what she’d been meaning to do over Easter. James, on the other hand, puffed up his hair and grinned.

“Puddlemere practically already want me,” he announced pompously. Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Firm ground, good kick-off. Bit of a bite in the air," Gwenog cut in, throwing James a warning glance. "Make sure your goggles are secure, we don't want wind-blindness to throw us off."

"Tell James to stop farting in the showers, then," Caine sniggered. Io laughed. Gwenog threw her an icy look and she cut herself off, short.

"Had breakfast, everyone?" Blythe asked, as they turned around to walk back into the changing rooms. The team murmured in agreement and Io squinted at the pale sun, thinking of Evan's ruffled shirt and wondering about the hollowed look in his eye.

"Focus up, Brewsam," Gwenog rapped, once they were inside, throwing a pair of goggles at her. Io caught them absent-mindedly.

"Such a hard-arse, Jones," came a drawling voice from the door, and everyone turned to look. Io grinned. Sirius was leaning against the door, draped in a red and gold painted sheet that was magically glimmering, his face swathed in Gryffindor paint, hair messed to the nines. He winked at Andrew and sauntered further in. Gwenog sighed.

"What are you doing here, Black?" Sirius spread his arms, and gave a little twirl, his makeshift cape swirling fabulously.

"House spirit, of course," he said, leaning in to give James a sloppy kiss on the cheek, leaving paint all over his skin. James frowned and scrubbed it away. 

"Go away," Gwenog said, exasperatedly. "The match is about to start." Sirius placed a hand over his heart, and pouted. Io snorted.

"I only came to say good luck," he whined, but Blythe brandished her broom at him and he scampered from the room. Gwenog turned back to the team.

"Anyway," she sighed, "let's do this. All in?"

"All in," they echoed, nervous, excitedly eyeing each other. 

"Let's go, Gryffindor!" Blythe roared suddenly, punching the air, and the team whooped and squealed. Gwenog strapped her goggles around her head and squared her shoulders, and then she strode purposefully from the changing rooms, and the team piled after her, adrenaline running high.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Mulciber had missed eight classes that week. Evan had counted.

Mulciber had been taking lessons from Snape on Dark spells.

Mulciber had gotten a Gryffindor girl to steal Io Brewsam's letters from her dresser, and he'd been poring over them like a pervert for the best part of the last two days.

Mulciber was up to something, something that Yaxley and Bellatrix didn't know about. Evan didn't know if Malfoy was in on it, but Malfoy had been kept down a year, so he wouldn't have been surprised if Mulciber had somehow convinced him into doing something.

Malfoy was clever, though, despite his carelessness towards schoolwork, which was why Evan had had to refute that theory.

So, Mulciber was working alone, probably.

Evan dealt in probability, but this wasn't one game he was willing to gamble with.

"Mulciber," Evan said, rounding the corner, and Mulciber twitched, startled. 

"Rosier," he said, twisting the name. "How's the seduction of that dirty-blooded bitch going?"

"Je ne saurais pas," Evan replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. Mulciber sneered, an impressive feat for such a square, blank face. "What are you doing? Scouring the school for stray Mudbloods?"

"None of your business, you little weasel," Mulciber snapped. He turned his broad back, and started to head away.

"Bella doesn't like to be left out," Evan called after him, but if Mulciber acknowledged the warning, he didn't show it.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io relished the feel of the thin wind on her skin. Clawed and sharp, slipping its fingers through her hair. Quidditch was practically a religious experience, and it spread euphoria through her every single time.

James was square, keeping pace, an open option, but the hoops were right ahead, and the Wampus keeper was ready and welcoming. Io leant forward a little more, keeping an eye on the Beaters following along behind, and when she was ready, she dived down, beneath James to keep cover, and into the scoring area.

James pulled up short, disappointed, but Io ignored him, sitting up and pulling back her throwing arm. The Keeper hovered. She feinted, left, then right, then left again, and threw-

-but the angle was off, it was her weak side, and the Quaffle arced slowly, right into the Keeper's hands. Half the stands cheered, the commentator groaned over them and Io wheeled around, puffing a strand of hair out of her face and getting ready to find someone to mark. Gwenog, eight feet above her, was screaming bloody murder.

"...pass the Quaffle, Brewsam! What the hell do you think your team mates are there for? Pull it together!" She zoomed off before Io could holler back.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Trailing Mulciber was far too easy. He was big and loud and never checked over his shoulder, and so Evan slipped from corridor to corridor with barely a whisper, keeping his eye directly on Mulciber.

The two of them weaved their way through the castle, Mulciber with a steady tread and stoic goal, Evan flickering from doorways to corners to alcoves, just out of sight and sound.

They arrived at the tapestry corridor, and Evan allowed himself a moment of sorrow for what was presumably about to be the scene of a nasty crime. His mother had taught him to appreciate beautiful things, and although the tapestries were blatantly Scottish and nothing compared to the elegance of French embroidery, they were wonderfully depicted.

Mulciber checked his watch, thick and silver and expensive. A present from Malfoy, induction, pretty much. Evan had been given a tie pin: much more discreet and handsome and graceful. The Dark Lord didn't care about presents, but Malfoy knew how to bribe and how to cajole to get people to join the cause. He often bragged about how he'd soon be head recruiter, right as he got out of school.

The tapestries flickered in the torchlight, the entire corridor hidden from the sun, and Mulciber tapped his foot and stared nonchalantly at a picture of a bloody siege, from the late eighth century, by the looks of it.

Tapping footsteps, dainty and bouncy, and Evan drew back around the corner as Mulciber straightened up, like a heavyset cat noticing some smaller animal of prey.

Evan pressed his head against the wall, and all the suppressed thoughts and the what-if's and the hatred hit him like a brick. He couldn't let it happen. He couldn't compromise his position. He couldn't sit here and listen to a child get killed. He couldn't forfeit everything, his family, his blood, his carefully crafted empire.

His heart thudded, he screwed his eyes shut. An inquisitive question, a deep-voiced answer and--

a BANG!

Evan fled, the floor spinning out beneath his feet, like the claws of hell were snatching at his shoes.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Three goals behind, and Gwenog was livid, probably barely refraining from hitting the Bludgers at her own team. Io dodged an incoming Chaser with anxious speed, shifting the Quaffle under her arm, and willed her broom to go faster. The Wampus Beaters were either side of her, two Chasers forming a fork behind her, and James was nowhere to be seen.

Desperately, Io urged her broom onwards, the wind slicking chilly against her neck. The Keeper challenged her, growing ever nearer. 

A Bludger, in her peripheral vision, and Io yanked her broom handle down and to the side. The scenery blurred as she rolled haphazardly downwards, and then she righted herself just before smacking into the other Beater. 

He swerved away, she crossed the scoring area line, and the Keeper flew out to meet her, barreling in like an Erumpent. Confident, by the look on his face. Io dodged him easily, as he reached out to smack the Quaffle away, and the goal was right there and she drew back her arm and threw the Quaffle and then an impact on her side rocked the world, lifting her sideways, away from her broom. 

Io snatched at the air, fingers moving far too slowly. The sky swayed above her, clouded and grey, and the wind screamed past her cheeks.

Her ankle hooked around her broom and her fall sped up, then yanked her to a stop, and then her foot slipped and she was falling again, and her ribs were howling with pain and her head was dizzy and her broom was diving for her and she wrapped her fingers around the handle and rolled just before she hit the ground. 

The grass brushed her shoulder and she clutched tight to her broom. She clung on, barely caring where she was going. There was a remnant of a cheer in her ears, and then the commentator was reading the score and Io shook cotton from her head and tried to focus on the game.

 _"It's one hundred points to eighty, Wampus in the lead!"_

Io rose, slowly, checking everywhere for Bludgers, one hand clamped to her side. James was close on the tail of a Wampus Chaser and Io took a moment, then stomped on the accelerator to join the chase.

" _There they go! Both Seekers are zooming around the edge of the pitch, neck and neck! Someone's seen the Snitch! Parkin reaches out, she's edging forward and-- she's got the Snitch! Gryffindor win!_ "

†††††††††††††††††††††

There was no time for celebration as they touched down on the ground. There was no mood for it, either: James shouldered past Io without a word, Tilly left the bench, looking defeated, Blythe grimly marched away to the changing rooms without so much as a look back, and Gwenog was suddenly in Io's space, red-faced and speechless.

"Save it," Io wheezed. "Alright? Save it, for once. I know. Now, 'scuse me. I've got a hot date with some Skele-Gro." And she shoved Gwenog away and marched off, furious at herself and wondering what the hell she'd even tried to do.

And Evan hadn't even been there.

He never broke his promises.

Io paused outside the Hospital Wing door, digging her fingernails into her palms, kicking at a grass stain on the toe of one of her boots. Then she turned away, thinking of someone's rumpled collar, and stormed off down the corridor instead.

She met Evan on the floor below the tapestry corridor. She turned a corner and he thumped into her, rebounded off her and fell to the floor. Io stared.

He was pale. He'd been running. His hair was a mess, lighter than usual and sticking up on one side.

"Evan?" she asked, wincing when the words bounced a spike of pain off her ribs, like some kind of torturous ping-pong game. He stared at her, and then, without a word, scrambled to his feet, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her roughly after him, towards the stairs. "Evan, stop! What the hell are you-"

"Mulciber," he panted, and then they reached the stairs and he began to leap up them, five at a time. Io frowned and tried to speed up, dread building along with the pain in her side.

"You didn't come to the match," she huffed, and Evan made an indignant, desperate sound.

"There are more important things," he said, and then they reached the tapestry corridor and he pressed his wand into her hand and threw her around a corner.

Io stumbled to a stop. Mulciber looked around, and Mary--? Mary, whipped her head around and whimpered and barely without thinking, Io raised Evan's wand and blasted Mulciber right in the chest. 

He flew backwards with a _whoosh_ , and then thumped to the floor.

"You _prick_!" someone screeched, and then, as Mulciber struggled to right himself, Lily Evans, like an avenging angel, appeared at the end of the hall and unleashed hell and fury from the end of her wand.

The corridor filled with the smell of magic and the spark of spells and Io, drained from the Quidditch and the run and the pain, lowered Evan's wand.

Mulciber turned momentarily, fired something green and fast at her, and then Lily's Stun hit him square in the back and the green spell slammed into Io's heart and she crumpled, her sight blackening instantly to nothing.

Evan's wand rolled from between her fingers, but Evan Rosier was long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More QUidDiTcH bitches
> 
> Also is anyone up for some serial arson? Thinking piles of unsold Troubled Blood books? JK Rowling’s new book? Asking for a friend.


	38. Girls Just Wanna Love Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O.W.L.s begin. Secrets start to eat the students alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the tribulations of falling for a straight girl :')
> 
> SpoOkY seAsON

Hogwarts was a hair's breadth from closing.

Lily Evans was in pieces.

Mulciber was nowhere to be found.

Evan Rosier sat by Io's side, hour after hour, rolling his wand between his fingers and thinking, always thinking. His hair, dry and light, tie wrapped around his palm, shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

So unlike his dark-headed, slick and tidy usual self. His father would collapse if he saw him. He could practically hear the tirade of angry, river-smooth French berating his tired ears.

Lattices of light squares from the open window bleached Io's skin a golden white, too bright to be benevolent. Evan dug an elbow into his thigh and heaved with suppression, a sunken sob, a jailed screech of frustration. So very un-Evan.

"Bottling emotions raises your blood pressure." He looked up, ever so slowly, a strand of hair bouncing against the corner of his mouth. Io cracked an eye open, screwing her nose up. "Be a good boy and close the curtains, yeah?" Evan's wand clattered to the floor and between that second and the next, he'd thrown himself from his seat and onto her bed.

His hip bone dug into her leg and his hair flashed over her face and he snaked his fingers underneath her shoulder and curled his arms around her, relief piercing his chest like some kind of blade. 

"I thought I'd killed you," he whimpered, unashamedly, burying his face in her pillow. Io mumbled something unintelligible into his shoulder, and when he didn't reply, she started giggling. Little shakes and fits of laughter, frail, and somewhat happy, somewhat nervous.

"I don't go down that easy," she said, between bouts of hiccuping giggles, muffled in his shirt.

"I know," Evan replied, his eyelashes scraping the pillowcase. "I was just- afraid."

"Slytherins never doubt themselves," Io replied mockingly, but her arm was wrapped securely around his waist, the only anchor stopping him from sliding to the floor.

"You'd be surprised," Evan grunted, and she started laughing again.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"Evans! Evans! Slow the fuck down!"

"Fuck off," Lily spat over her shoulder. Her fingers were trembling, like her own bones were cracking apart. They were usually so still and sure.

"Evans, come on..." Sirius arrived in her peripheral vision, artfully messy and panting slightly. "Just slow down a damn minute, won't you?"

"What do you want?" she growled. Petunia's letter, from that perfect night of chess, was nicking her skin where it was clenched in her hand: the fierceness it brought was the only fire that could burn through her head, make her think clearly, without fear or rage or thought of flight.

"Marching the corridors with a bunch of loonies on the loose won't bring Mulciber back for you to have your way with him," Sirius said, ever so wisely. Lily glowered at the stone, and kept walking. "Alright, Evans, I'm sorry I left your bag up on the Quidditch hoops," he tried. "I'm sorry I flushed your tie down the lavatory. I'm sorry I switched your Charms homework with Hailey Button's diary. I'm sorry I let you polish your jewellery with that awful Muggle stuff for five years, but can you listen to me, just this once?"

"I'm not stopping you from talking," Lily sniped, harshly. "If I were, you'd be in a lot of pain already." Sirius fluttered his eyelashes in a semblance of shock. "What do you want?" Lily repeated. Sirius hesitated.

"Snivelly," he started, and Lily hissed, instantly, like an angry cat.

" _Don't_ talk to me about Severus," she snarled.

"Hear me out," Sirius cut in, and somehow, his voice was stonier, colder than hers. "My brother, Reg. You know him?" Lily had the grace to give him a curt nod and they turned a corner, matching glares parting a crowd of third years with ease. "He's got in bad, in deep. I think Snivelly had something to do with it."

"And you want me to...what?" Lily replied snappishly. She plunged her hands into her pockets as Florence Pettiford walked past, giving them both an odd look.

"I just want to know if it's true," Sirius said. A note of desperation tinged his voice, and Lily slowed her pace, finally glancing at him. He seemed to fumble, backtrack. "I mean, I know what's got into him. I just want...I want to find out if it's reversible. I want to know everything. Please, Lily." Her name in his mouth was such a foreign thing that it made her twitch. Lily stared at the ground for a second and Sirius twisted his undone tie around his finger.

"Did you really swap my Charms homework?" she mumbled. Sirius blinked, head bobbing as he computed her words.

"I- yeah. Uh, sorry. Is- is that a yes?"

"I'll think about it," Lily replied coolly. "Severus and I aren't talking at the moment." She sighed. "I didn't think Mulciber was one of the..."

"Mouldy ones?" Sirius offered. Lily's lips twitched.

"Maybe."

"I don't know how I didn't see it in Reg any sooner," Sirius replied gloomily.

"It's not about what _you_ didn't see," Lily said, eyes trailing over the cracks in the stone as they passed stretches of wall. "Trust me. People can change fast. Blink of an eye. And it's exhausting-" she tilted her head vaguely- "trying to keep up." The letter scratched against her fingernail, deep in her pocket, and she shoved it further down. "That's the thing about me, I suppose." Sirius was listening, closely. "I've got to be brilliant, or I might as well be no one at all."

†††††††††††††††††††††

"And then we have two exam questions on the uses of hemlock in poisonous potions," Remus finished, fishing a last bit of parchment from his bag and laying it carefully on Io's knee.

Io kneaded her sternum with the palm of her hand, wincing at the sharp pain of her own touch. Evan was long gone, scared away instantly by Rio and Marlene when they'd come marching in to see Io and Mary, gazes alight with relief and anger.

O.W.L.s started in two days. The next Quidditch match of the tournament started tomorrow, and Hufflepuff were down three players. Tom Denvers had been reduced to a frozen shadow behind a cloth curtain, right at the back of the Hospital Wing. Io hadn't looked that way since she'd first woken up, aching and confused and nauseous.

Ozy was sat on her other side, furiously scribbling in a notebook and paying no attention to either her or Remus.

"What are you doing, Kahele?" Io asked interestedly, leaning over the side of the bed. Ozy slapped the notebook shut instantly and gave Io a benevolent smile.

"Nothing," they said, but Io had already seen too much, and her heart was trembling a little.

"Self-lighting fireworks? Minister's birthday, is it?" she asked, and Ozy frowned. Remus shifted in his chair and cleared his throat, but Io got there before him. "Hanging around Arule Morrigan, by any chance?" Her voice was far too high and cool, and Ozy blinked worriedly.

"They're allowed to hang around whoever they like," Remus stated, flatly, accompanying his words with a huff. Ozy looked between Io and Remus as if they were watching a tennis match. Io scowled.

"I know."

"So calm the fuck down, Daddy-O," Remus replied with a snort, and Io wrinkled her nose and turned back to Ozy.

"You want to stay away from him," she warned, flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder. Ozy shrugged.

"He seems cool," they said, carelessly.

"Yeah, til he turns Death Eater on you," Io replied darkly. Remus tutted sharply, warningly, and Ozy reopened their notebook, casting Io a dark, confused glance. "Sorry," Io relented, and Ozy shrugged.

"It's fine."

"Coming to the match?" Io tried, attempting to test the air. Ozy smiled, and she relaxed.

"Yeah. I'm bet on Horned Serpent, ten Galleons against George McEile."

"I'd back you," Io said. "Hufflepuff've lost too many people." Remus' eyes flickered involuntarily to the dark Tom-shaped shadow at the back of the wing, and Io shivered.

"Oh, and the Mending Charm," Remus said, breaking an icy quiet and diving back into his satchel. "Flitwick said 'specially to make sure you practice this one." He grinned impishly, and Io snatched the offered parchment out of his fingers with a mocking scowl. Across the bed, Ozy was watching Remus, utterly and suddenly transfixed.

"Mending Charms are _hard_ ," Io whined, oblivious to the exchanging looks either side of her. "I respect all the homemakers, 'cause _damn_..." She looked up, bothered by the silence, and sighed. "Look, I get that you're moving away and you won't see each other and blah, blah, blah, but can you please get a room?" The two started, Remus flushing beneath a scar and a scatter of freckles, Ozy with a quick blink and a smile. Io rolled her eyes. "Shitty bedside manner, Moony. _Honestly_."

†††††††††††††††††††††

She managed to get out of bed for the match the next day, as Madame Pomfrey claimed it would be better to be up and around rather than 'languishing in bedchains' as she so grotesquely put it.

It was a warm morning, firm ground, bright sky, no wind, and perfect for spectating.

"Move along, move along," hollered someone from down the line, when the girls had finally managed to get Io to the stands, and James and Peter leaped through the crowd, covered in Hufflepuff merchandise and grinning widely. "Ladies!" James exclaimed, throwing his arms up triumphantly. His hair was perfectly wind-rustled, even though there wasn't even a breeze around.

Lily ignored him, Io rolled her eyes, and Alice lifted her upper lip in a semblance of disgust. James threw himself into a seat, squished between Marlene and Io, and winked at Catherine Male, two rows down. She flushed and turned away.

James flung his arms around Io, and Peter wriggled in through the forest of knees to sit on the floor.

"Good morning, eh?" James said, brightly, and Marlene threw a kernel of popcorn at him.

The match was fast and dirty, so unlike Hufflepuff's usual tactics. Fouls were called, cursing and threats filled the air, and by half-time, Horned Serpent's Seeker was in tears.

The students watched with apprehension as the teams landed for re-grouping, and Marlene looked up from the last-minute revision she'd been doing.

"Is it over?" she asked. Lily shook her head, squinting down at the pitch.

"Half time. Horned Serpent are forty points up. You alright, Io?" Io, who had fallen asleep, woke with a jerk and Lily's elbow in her ribs.

"Dandy," she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes. "Where's James?"

"Harassing the second years, by the look of it," Alice said, peering over the seats in front.

"For goodness sake," Lily growled, standing up and brushing her skirt down sharply. "I'll be right back. Potter!" And she marched off, dazzlingly bright in the morning sun.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Regulus wasn't at the match, and neither was Snape.

Sirius sat in the stands beside Carlotta, arm around her shoulders, knee bobbing up and down, the match passing blurrily through his attention like a swarm of flies. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm going to get some food," he said, standing abruptly, and Carlotta looked up at him with a pout.

"Sirius..."

"Food," Sirius said vaguely. "I'll be back soon."

"Kiss?" she asked, eyes wide, and he leant down, kissed her cheek, and walked off.

The corridors echoed with every movement he made. They were empty and lonely, and made him think of just how big the castle was. He could search for hours and wouldn't have even left the West wing.

No Regulus in any of the classrooms. Death Eaters liked the dungeons, didn't they, the greasy little lizards. Sirius took the stairs to the dungeons, hands in his pockets, hair over his face. His tie was gone and his face was stone, so no one questioned him.

He found them outside a storeroom, huddled cosily under a stone gargoyle together, and the instant he caught sight of the two of them, a cold rage slashed like ice against the inside of his stomach.

"Snivellus!" he called, and his voice cracked, but there was no one around to hear it. Snape looked up, drawing back from Regulus, and his pale face twisted into its usual dismal sneer. His robes were patched on the shoulder from where James had hit him with a Stinging Hex the other day.

Bloody git had got in the way.

Sirius marched forward, wand already drawn, but then there was a rustle from the seat opposite him and Regulus stood, fast, his own wand in his hand, too. Focused right on Sirius' nose.

Sirius didn't stop walking.

"Put your wand down, Reg."

"No." His hand was shaking, trembling at the elbow. High-collared, pale-faced fear. Regret, maybe? Sirius stopped walking.

"I mean it," he said, through gritted teeth. "We have to talk."

"I don't need you to tell me what to _do_!" Regulus shot back, lips twisting. Snape stared Sirius down, black-eyed and doleful and cold.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Sirius replied, as gently as he could. The ice-rage was gone now, melted, into a cold puddle. Snape was still glaring. "Get out of here, Snivelly." Reg's wand arm lowered a little, but Snape just narrowed his eyes.

“Go on, Sev,” Reg said, after a second, tipping his chin towards the Slytherin common room. Snape deliberated a second longer, and then he turned and left in a sweep of blackrobes and harsh looks. Sirius watched him go, and then he turned back to Regulus. Reg’s top button was undone. His hair was tucked back beyond one ear, and he looked too much like a ghost of what Sirius saw sometimes in dark windows, in age-spotted, time-bent mirrors. And he didn’t like it.

Regulus shifted, his wand pointing loosely through his fingers at Sirius’ left foot.

“What do you want?” he asked. The greenish torchlight was turning his skin translucent, thin and sickly. His veins stood out, pink and blue against his throat. He looked tired, bruise-eyed, but he looked...happy. Somehow. Sirius didn’t like to think that this was the first time he’d seen his brother, _really_ seen him, been near to him, in eight months.

“Look, Reg–” Sirius said, and his tongue caught on the last word like it was a thorn. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I need you to tell me, honestly, something, alright?” Regulus blinked, and his nostrils twiched, ever so slightly. He was listening. “These people...Avery. Malfoy. Bellatrix, for Salazar’s sake–“ he hadn’t meant to say that. Maybe it would be better to start again. “Tell me, you believe them. Truly. You’re happy, you belong, they’re right in their beliefs, their beliefs are _your_ beliefs, too. That’s it. All I want to know, that you really think you’re one of them?” Regulus ran the tip of his tongue over one cracked lip, and the silence started to worm its way into Sirius’ heart. “I just have to know,” he said, and it sounded so desperate, even to himself.

“You can’t change me, brother.”

“I know.” He hadn’t known a couple of words could sing so much, so high, especially such sour ones. Sirius bent his head. “I know.” He nodded, and there weren’t any tears to fall. “Is this the end of the road, then?”

“I guess so.” Regulus wasn’t looking at him anymore. “I can’t fight two battles.”

“You can’t fight anything,” Sirius replied, and the bitterness tasted familiar. “Goodbye, Reg.”

†††††††††††††††††††††††††

The Hufflepuff team passed her in the corridors, muddy and scowling at each other, and Rio leant against the wall to let them go. She wasn’t interested in them.

“I can totally,” came a boisterous voice from down the corridor, and in the wake of the Hufflepuffs came James Potter, a stack of books on his head and his arms out on either side, glasses askew and Peter Pettigrew walking by his side, looking distinctly unimpressed. “Hey, Calderon,” Potter said easily, cross-eyed and focused on his balance. Rio flipped him off. Pettigrew didn’t even dare look her in the eye. “I swear, Wormy, I can make it all the way back to the common room!” And they ambled off, with a last, "Outta my way, Stebbins!" and a wand-blast and a yelp.

Rio looked back down the corridor, and Marlene rounded the corner with Lily, chatting away. Rio pushed off the wall, craned her neck and...there she was. Arm around Alice’s shoulder, smiling weakly, palm pressed into her own sternum. Io saw Rio and gave her a smile and Rio’s skin crawled and her heart squeezed and her ears rung all at the same time and she ignored it and started walking to catch them.

“Awright?” she said, casually, and Io touched her shoulder with a light hand.

“Not so bad. You watch the match?”

“Nah. Marlene put me up to something.”

“Oh, yeah?” Io said, perking up a bit. “What was it?” Rio looked away.

“Couldn’t tell you,” she said, as teasingly as she could with a thickness in her throat. “Then I’d have to kill you.” Io laughed and Rio didn’t flush with pleasure this time, she _didn’t_. Alice was looking at her funny. She had to urge to shove her.

“Hufflepuff lost,” Alice interjected, mouth twitching with suspicion. Rio nodded and stared nonchalantly at a torch as they passed it.

“I noticed.”

“Want to revise in the library with us later?” Io asked, masking a yawn.

“Su–“

“I need to talk to you later, Rio,” Alice cut in, suddenly, and Rio’s heart did one of those terrified little flips. She fixed Alice with a stony stare and shrugged. 

“No problem.” Alice held her gaze with a tilted head and a semblance of a smile.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Exams started the very next day, and Io dragged herself through them with numerous potions and meals and copious revision notes.

Arithmancy first, a paper filled with charts and numbers and ridiculously complicated calculations, and then History of Magic, three essays and five questions in four hours.

_Using the source and your own knowledge, explain and evaluate the usefulness of the 1425 Gorgon Extermination Act in preventing Muggle deaths by supernatural creatures in Eastern Europe. 30 marks._

Io thumped her chin onto her palm, dipped her quill in ink, and began to write.

It ended in the late afternoon, the hall stuffy, but cooling, students snapping out cricks from their writing wrists, Binns yawning as he scooped piles of papers into his transparent arms.

"Dismissed," he groaned, and there was a great scraping of chairs and chattering of tired mouths as the students began to file out of the hall. Io stood too suddenly, patches appearing in her vision, and had to steady herself on Evan's arm: he'd been in the seat next to her, lazily scrawling his loopy writing across copious pages.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Rehab's a bitch." He snorted and offered her his arm, like a perfect gentleman. She took it, and for once allowed him to escort her out.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Alice was waiting outside the library, and Rio almost dropped her books when she saw her: arms crossed, folded into an alcove, glittering dark eyes tracking every movement. Alice Prewett was scary when she wanted to be. Rio crossed the corridor, looking both ways, and stopped just in front of the alcove.

"Hi," she tried. Alice patted the stone seat and Rio squished in beside her, trying not to be awkward. "Um..."

"You like her?" Alice asked, without preamble. Rio's stomach seemed to convulse.

"Wh-"

"You might want to dial it down. It's kind of obvious."

"You- you're not going to-"

"Jump you? Threaten you? Try'n get you expelled? I'm not a Malfoy, Rio. I don't give a shit."

"So why'd you want to talk?" Rio asked, utterly lost. Alice glanced over Rio's shoulder.

"Don't tell her," she warned. Rio snorted, nervous laughter bubbling up. The stone was cold against her ribcage.

"You think I was plannin' on it?"

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Alright. Just- she's not in a good place."

"I hadn't noticed," Rio said dryly. 

"You don't know her," Alice replied. The circle of torchlight from the bracket on the opposite wall didn't quite reach the alcove, and there was no light from the window. Just the dark and Rio's secret between them now. "She's trying really hard to not...stick out, whatever she puts across. I don't think she'd be able to take it, not well, anyway." Rio had known that already. Straight girls got weirded out by lesbians, most of the time. Straight white girls, mostly. Rich ones. And Io was all three.

She couldn't have had a worse crush.

No, maybe if she'd fallen for Nancy Nott or Bellatrix Black, it would have been worse.

All these things she knew, yet her heart still twisted painfully, and Alice must have noticed the stricken look on her face.

"It's hard, right?" she said softly, and Rio shrugged, trying to rearrange her features into cool carelessness. She couldn't quite get there.

"Be better when I'm outta here."

"That's a long time," Alice said, tapping Rio's knee. It was a strange touch, but comforting.

"I know," Rio said heavily. "Thanks." Alice smiled warmly.

"Anytime." 

Alice was a comforting person, but the ache wasn't alleviated any. Maybe the fear was lesser, less gripping, less thrilling, even though it didn't change anything: the fact that she'd memorised Io's smile and the feeling it elicited, but Io could never feel the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahah I just got HISSED at by the librarian: I was severely zoned out, giggling at the fact that I had "it's a holly jolly christmas" stuck in my head in October
> 
> She crept up behind me
> 
> Like some kind of bespectacled predator
> 
> Like some kind of soft-clawed 
> 
> d e m o n
> 
> And went: "this is a LIBRARY, young lady!"
> 
> Check out my Tumblr for Harry Potter stuff and also some gender recognition UK stuff and black lives matter :)
> 
>   
> [Tumblr](https://tumblr.com/%5Bcarloabay%5D)
> 
> Check it out, message me, let's have a chat!


	39. Snape's Worst Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last Quidditch match arrives. Conflicts among the fifth year students draw to a heat.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter books or any of the characters 
> 
> Our Lord and Saviour Professor/Headmistress Minerva McGonagall does :)
> 
> (Point is I don't own it bc I referenced and copied speech from Snape's Worst Memory Chapter in OOTP so yeahhh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh mannnn we're almost at the end!!!!! One more chapter!!

Every day was hotter than the last, every morning the sun was a little brighter, every evening the stars a little later. But the height of the mountains and the shade of the Forest kept the edge off the heat, so by the time summer had really reached Hogwarts, it was tame and warm and pretty.

The days crawled by, but soon enough, after a week of revision and intermittent Quidditch practice and stuffy exam halls, James arrived at his penultimate exam.

Defence Against The Dark Arts was a breeze; the questions were all about werewolves and dragons, not a single stupid mermaid or Augerey in there at all. 

The sunlight was warming the hall, streaming through the windows and gleaming onto all the bent heads. James sucked on the tip of his quill, grimaced at the taste of ink, and squinted at his last paragraph.

"Five more minutes!" Flitwick croaked, walking past and peering down at James' paper. James put down his quill and inched his parchment forward so as to read what he'd written... _in collusion, the Peruvian Vipertooth is the most dangerous species of dragon because..._

That was _conclusion_ , not _collusion_. James quickly remedied the mistake, then nodded, satisfied, and sat back.

He yawned widely, and shoved a hand through his hair. Flitwick was moving away now, over to where Davy Gugdeon was sneaking answers from his neighbour's paper. James made sure Flitwick wouldn't look over, then turned and offered a grin to Sirius, four seats behind.

The idiot was leaning back on his chair, hair in his face, and gave James a thumbs up. James mouthed 'werewolves' at him, and Sirius sniggered. 

He turned back, tapped his foot on the ground, stared at the slowly ticking clock. He inched a spare bit of parchment from the pile on his desk, dipped his quill in ink, and started doodling a Snitch.

He could feel the one in his pocket buzzing excitedly, crumpled wings needling into his thigh. He slapped it to get it to shut up, and carried on drawing. 

James finished the Snitch and sucked absentmindedly on the tip of his quill, ink staining the edge of his lip. Now, where was she...?

Easy. The sunlight bounced off her head, and she glowed, red and gold, in the musty afternoon light of the hall. Four seats in front and two rows to the left, setting down her quill and rubbing a tired wrist. 

James looked away from her as Flitwick came back around the end of the row, and he lowered his quill to his doodling paper again, began tracing her initials. L.E. 

"Quills down, please!" Flitwick squeaked, and James jumped minutely. His face went a little hot for no absolute reason, and he scrubbed at it to make it go away. "That means you, too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! Accio!" Hundreds of rolls of parchment flew from their desks and into his waiting arms, overbearing him and pushing him to the floor. Exams went everywhere and James snorted derisively.

A couple of people went to help Flitwick, from the front, and he steadied himself.

"Thank you ... thank you," panted Flitwick. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"

James hastily crossed out Lily's initials, jumped to his feet, stuffed his things into his bag, swung it over his shoulder, and made for the door, speedwalking to catch up with Sirius.

Remus appeared on their right, trailing Wormtail, and James winked at the both of them.

"Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked Sirius. They emerged into the Entrance Hall and James bumped someone insignificant out of his way.

"Loved it," Remus replied briskly. "Give five signs that identify the werewolf. Excellent question."

"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" James asked, with mock concern, and Remus smiled, slightly.

"Think I did," he said, seriously. "One: he's sitting on my chair. Two: he's wearing my clothes. Three: his name's Remus Lupin." They all laughed, except for Peter, and they joined the heavy crowd of students struggling out the front door and into the late sunlight.

"I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and the tufted tail," Peter said anxiously, 'but I couldn't think what else--"

"How thick are you, Wormtail?" James replied impatiently, jostling Peter's shoulder. "You run around with a werewolf once a month--"

"Keep your voice down," Remus implored, and James rolled his eyes as they began to walk down to the lakeside.

"You're too twitchy, Moony," he said, casually, guiding the group to a spot about ten feet away from a group of girls. Lily, from her group, stared at him for a second and he ruffled his hair at the back, and grinned at her.

"Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake," Sirius said, eyes scanning the lawns, glazed and bored. "I'll be surprised if I don't get "Outstanding" on it, at least."

"Me too," James agreed. Thank Merlin there hadn't been anything like Acromantula in it. He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out the Snitch, and it unfolded its wings gratefully. It struggled for a little bit, and Sirius looked over, loosening his tie.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked.

"Nicked it," James said casually, letting go of the Snitch. It flew left, around Peter's ear, and James let it get about a foot away before he lunged for it, snatching it up easily.

They stopped in the shade of the beech tree near Lily and her friends, and James positioned himself just out of the roof of the leaves, the Snitch glinting tantalisingly in the warm air.

The sun was gleaming on the surface of the lake, and the girls had their socks off, feet dangling in the water. Lily was in the middle of them, laughing and kicking water over Alice Prewett's bag.

Remus was deep in his Transfiguration book, and Sirius was reclining haughtily against the beech trunk, glaring out across the lawns.

James let the Snitch go again and again, letting it get further and further away before he caught it, enjoying Peter's gasps of awe everytime he made a particularly difficult catch. It fumbled through his fingers, while his eye was on the girls at the water's edge, and he snatched again and caught it, and Peter squeaked and applauded. James held back a grin.

"Put that away, will you," Sirius said finally, as James caught it with his left hand, and Peter cheered. "Before Wormtail wets himself with excitement." James shrugged, having enjoyed the attention, and Peter turned slightly pink.

"If it bothers you," James said, stuffing the Snitch away with a grin.

"I'm bored," Sirius groaned, lolling his head against the tree trunk, tongue sticking out of his mouth. "Wish it was full moon."

"You might," Remus said darkly, hidden behind his book. "We've still got Transfiguration, if you're bored, you could test me. Here..." and he held out his book. James looked away as Sirius retorted rudely, and caught sight of just the right person.

Snivelly, curled under a bush with his exam paper, greasy nose an inch from the parchment, frowning at the questions. James cracked his neck, excitement building.

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," he said quietly. "Look who it is." And he nodded towards Snape's bush. Sirius turned his head, and became very still, very focused, like he'd smelt a rabbit.

"Excellent," he said softly, eyes narrowing. "Snivellus." James grinned, drawing his wand discreetly.

Snape got to his feet, shoving the paper back into his bag, and started to walk across the grass. Peter's head whipped from Sirius to James to Snape, and James had to stop himself from laughing out loud as he and Sirius stood up.

Remus remained where he was, and they left him there; Sirius was tense and coiled like he was about to pounce, nose twitching with anticipation.

"Alright, Snivellus?" James called loudly.

Snape reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack: dropping his bag, he plunged his hand inside his robes and his wand was halfway into the air when James shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand jerked out of his hand and flew twelve feet into the air to land with a soft sound, far behind him. Sirius barked with laughter, and James grinned. Snape scrambled backwards.

"Impedimenta!" Sirius shouted, and Snape was knocked backwards halfway through a sudden dive towards his wand. 

Students were looking over now, interested, confused at the noise and duelling. Some entertained, some apprehensive.

Snape wasn't popular. In fact, he was such a nasty git, he'd probably pissed off the entire school at some point or another, James thought.

Snape lay panting on the ground, and the two of them advanced on him, wands raised. James chanced a look over his shoulder to the girls at the water's edge. They were watching. He turned back to Snape.

"How'd the exam go, Snivellus?" James taunted, enjoying the look of loathing Snape was throwing at them both.

"I was watching, his nose was touching the parchment," said Sirius viciously. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word." James snorted, and around them, several people laughed. Sirius' little smile widened somewhat, and in James' periphery, Peter edged around Remus to get a better view. Remus still hadn't moved an inch, buried steadfastly in his book. Good for him, James thought starkly.

The jinx was still active, and Snape was struggling, glaring up at James. James cocked his head slowly.

"You--wait," Snape growled. "You--wait!" His expression was of the utmost loathing, and James grinned down at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Wait for what?" Sirius said coolly. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?" The crowd sniggered, and Snape grunted, swore, let out a string of jinxes and curses, but with his wand ten feet away, nothing happened.

"Wash out your mouth," James said, coldly. "Scourgify!" and with a flick of his wand, pink soap bubbles grew and popped and grew again, frothing in Snape's mouth, choking him.

"Leave him ALONE!" James jumped, whipped around, heart thudding, and there she was. Angry and blazing and glaring right at him.

"Alright, Evans?" he said, with an effort to deepen his voice, and she narrowed her eyes, teeth starting to show in a snarl. James pushed his free hand to his hair nervously. 

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated, her lip curling with dislike as she stared James up and down. "What's he done to you?" His cheeks were starting to flush, and he played it off coolly.

"Well..." he said, pretending to consider the point. "It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean..." A couple of people laughed, and Lily silenced them all with a freezing look. Peter had made his way to the front of the crowd, and James paid no heed to him. Sirius sniggered, too.

"You think you're funny," Lily said coldly, over scattered whispers. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. _Leave him alone._ " James jumped on his chance, seeing a golden window.

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," he said hopefully, quickly. "Go on...go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again." He tried a smirk. Lily's nose twisted with disgust.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the Giant Squid," Lily spat, and James' insides wilted slightly. 

"Bad luck, Prongs," Sirius said briskly, turning back to Snape. "OI!" 

Snape had managed to crawl to his wand, he had it in his hand and there was a bright flash and a searing pain; blood spattered from the side of James' face and he whirled around and in his head, _Levicorpus_ , and a second later, Snape was hanging upside down from the air, as if by an invisible string. His robes flew over his head, revealing his skinny legs and nasty underwear, and James roared with laughter along with the rest of the crowd. Sirius wheezed beside him, clutching his ribs uncontrollably.

Lily's furious expression twitched, minutely, and then she scowled.

"Let him down!" she repeated, with less vigour, and James bowed, grinning.

"Certainly." He flicked his wand and Snape fell through the air to crumple on the ground, hurriedly rearranging his robes, greasy hair in his face. Snape made to get up, but Sirius had his wand out, too.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he yelled, and Snape keeled over stuff as a board.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily roared, really angry this time, but the crowd was laughing again and James was having far too much fun. Then she pulled out her wand. Sirius stepped back. James eyed her warily. He'd seen firsthand the damage she could do with that.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," he said, earnestly.

"Take the curse off him, then!" she snapped. 

James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the counter-curse.

"There you go," he said, as Snape struggled to his feet. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus--"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" screeched Snape, and James' blood started to boil. How dare he? But Lily only blinked.

"Fine," she said coolly. "I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants, if I were you, _Snivellus_." James raised his wand again, anger thumping in his pulse.

"Apologise to Evans!" he roared, ready with a nasty curse. 

"I don't need you to make him apologise!" Lily snapped, rounding on James, and he frowned. "You're as bad as he is!" she growled. James spluttered, thought disappearing as he rushed to defend himself.

"What?" he yelped. "I'd _never_ call you a- a you-know-what!" 

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

She turned on her heel and hurried away. James gawped after her, his mouth balking in shock.

"Evans! Hey, EVANS!" But she didn't look back, and James stared, very aware of the looks he was getting from the crowd. "What is it with her?" James asked, trying to joke, like a throwaway line. Sirius squinted after Lily.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," he replied. James clenched his jaw, fury overtaking his surprised expressions and cooling in his throat. He turned back to Snape.

"Right--right-" he flicked his wand, and with another flash of light, Snape was suddenly strung up again, swinging ineffectively through the air at James like he wanted to hit him. "Who wants to see me take Snivelly's pants off?"

†††††††††††††††††††††

_"Didn't you see what Mulciber tried to do to Mary McDonald the other day?"_

_"That was harmless," Severus replied, dismissively. Lily gaped at him._

_"Harmless? Sev, he almost killed Io!"_

_"I don't think he meant to," Severus replied softly, tucking his chin into his collar._

_"Don't DO that!" Lily cried, grabbing his sleeve and wheeling him around. "This is serious! I'm worried, Sev! They're terrible people!" He only stared at her, and there was something so blank and uncaring in his dark eye._

Lily threw herself onto her bed and flung her books off the covers. They flew into the wall, thumping hard against the stone and dropping in bursts of loose paper and heavy covers. 

"Fucking...Potter!" she howled, drawing her wand and blasting the stone wall. The spell left a charred mark, and Lily kicked her chest of drawers in rage. Pain burst through her big toe and she whined in agony, grabbing her foot and falling backwards onto her rumpled bed. "Ow..." she whined.

It wasn't _really_ Potter, though. She could still see Severus's face in her mind's eye, pale and twisted and spitting a curse at her.

Like he'd hated her all along.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io left the Defence exam and went straight to the Quidditch pitch, still in her school robes. If she was going to be ready for the final match, she had to be fit and practiced.

There was no one else there: they were all relaxing by the lake, revising for the last exam, panicking in the library.

She nicked a school broom from the shed by jiggling the lock with a bobby pin, and walked out onto the sun-warmed grass of the pitch with a light feeling in her stomach. She'd have to stay low: she hadn't brought her goggles, and wind-blindness was never fun.

There had been a box of Quaffles on the shelf in the shed, just sitting there, the lid open, so she'd pilfered one and taken it out, and now it was tucked securely under her arm.

Io mounted her broom with easy familiarity, even if it wasn't her own. She rearranged her grip on the Quaffle, shook her hair out of her face, and kicked off with the sun in her eyes and the breeze on her cheeks.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Tensions were high before the match. Last night, Gwenog and James had gotten into a screaming match about the incident with Snape. Slytherin were determined not to let Gryffindor win the tournament, and so sabotage tactics were live and dangerous.

James glowered his way through the Transfiguration exam and lunch, and Io didn't dare even approach him. Finally, the team arrived sporadically down at the changing rooms, minus Gwenog and Blythe.

Everyone pulled on their Quidditch robes in tense silence, until Caine knocked James' broom over and James burst into an infuriated rant from behind the boys' changing wall.

"...spent five hundred Galleons on that, you fucking idiot! That's a model broom! You fucking chuck my stuff around right before a match! If even one scratch gets on that handle, _you're_ paying!" And he stormed out into the theory room, red faced and insolent.

Gwenog and Blythe were still gone, even with twenty minutes left until the match started.

Ellie nervously suggested a run, and so they trudged around the pitch in miserable silence, nauseous at the thought of the upcoming match. It wasn't too hot to play, but it was uncomfortably warm, and Io's collar was itching slightly with sweat once they got back to the changing rooms. Still no Gwenog. Still no Blythe. 

Then, ten minutes before the match was due to start, when the thunder of feet filling up the stadium was louder than ever and the chatter of Horned Serpent next door was cheerful and loud, Gwenog came battering her way through the door. They all leapt to their feet, but she swept past them and into Hooch's office without even a cursory glance.

"Gwen?" Ellie called, clutching at her broom handle. 

"Where's Blythe?" Tilly asked, wide-eyed. There was a rattle of drawers, a stream of Gwenog cursing, and then she stormed out of the office and threw a pair of Seeker's gloves right at Io's face. Io caught them before they hit her nose, and Gwenog grabbed her broom.

"Blythe's in St Mungo's."

"What?" 

"What happened?"

"Who did it?"

"Are we still playing?"

"Shut up!" Gwenog roared. The team fell silent, and somewhere above them, the commentating was starting. Gwenog sighed, pressing two fingers against the bridge of her nose. "She was found outside the staffroom. We're still going out. Io, you're Seeker. No more questions." She was stricken. Pale and trembling, nervously flattening her hair, and the team all looked around at each other before bursting into clamour again.

"But who did it?"

"What did they do?"

"How did it happen?"

Io stared down at the gloves as the worried conversation rose like a wave around her ears. Seeker' gloves, worn and cracked, shiny with distant, timeless fingerprints. She couldn't Seek. She couldn't. She'd always been a Chaser, she'd practiced yesterday as a Chaser, she'd lose the match, she'd get hit by a Bludger, she'd-

"QUIET!" Gwenog yelled, and the room lapsed into silence. She turned on Io, and a sick feeling coiled in Io's stomach. "Catch us that Snitch, will you, Brewsam?" Io nodded way too fast, her head bouncing like those toy things in the back of Muggle cars. Gwenog nodded. "That's the spirit." She glared around at the rest of them. "Bell, you're in for Chaser. We're not going down like this. Ready?"

"Ready," James said, almost immediately, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Ellie nodded.

"Ready."

"Why the hell not?" Caine sighed.

"We got this," Andrew said, with less conviction than was on his face.

"We got some ass to whoop," Tilly said, lowering her goggles. Gwenog grinned with all her teeth, and in the dim light of the changing rooms, she looked like a red-robed demon.

"Then let's go get 'em, Gryffindor!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be up soon! Prepare for epic Quidditch and tearful goodbyes :))))
> 
> Then we're onto the nExT book 😈


	40. The Quidditch Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match that will decide the winner...
> 
> ...Io dreads going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod
> 
> LAST CHAPTER
> 
> FINALLY
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR KUDOS AND COMMENTS
> 
> THANKS RIDICULOSITY FOR YOUR CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK YOU'RE SO HELPFUL honestly though you've made some of these chapters SO much better lmao thank you ❤️
> 
> THANK YOU LI0NHEART FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT, YOU'RE AN ANGEL - I HOPE YOU CONTINUE TO STICK WITH IO AND HER STORY, YOUR COMMENTS ARE HONESTLY THE HIGHLIGHT OF EACH NEW CHAPTER ❤️❤️❤️❤️ i hope you like my subtle shout-out to you near the start of this chapter, once again, thank you so much
> 
> Cx

" _Welcome, one and all, to the deciding match of the Ilvermorny-Hogwarts Quidditch cup! Who's ready this afternoon, for the last play-off?"_ The students roared themselves hoarse, flapping caricature banners and house colours. The commentator chuckled into his megaphone. " _Everyone's excited, I count that as a win already! Now, I think I saw some scouts amongst the crowd today, so the players had better have their game faces on, eh?_ "

The crowd oohed and ahed, and the sun twinkled warmly from behind a patchy cloud.

" _Right, then, without further ado, please welcome on to the pitch...Horned Serpent!_ "

Io gulped down bile and fitted the gloves on with trembling wrists as the crowd of students above them went into a frenzy.

"Huddle in, team," Gwenog said, snatching up her broom and grabbing her bat. The team obeyed, shuffling into a loose circle of bright cloth and the smell of laundry detergent and mud. Gwenog looked around at them all for a second, and Io could feel her own pulse slamming itself mercilessly into the skin of her throat. "This is it. The final reckoning. We've lost our Seeker and we're scoring into the sun in the first half, but I _know_ we've got this. We've had some slip-ups, no doubt-" she shook her head- "but we're the lions of Hogwarts, and you know what they say about lions."

The cheering outside was dying down. It was almost time. Io bit down hard on her tongue, imagined she was pushing down her nerves and her reservations and all the things that told her she couldn't do it.

"Those of the lionhearts..."

"Never back down," James finished quietly. They all looked at him, and he glared at the scuffed floor. Gwenog stared for a second, and then she straightened.

"That's right, Potter," she said, with inhuman gentleness. "Never." That last word was a growl, and the single reverberation in it spoke of the sky, of the joy of the flight, the thrill of the match. It drew a smile across Io's face, something fierce and ready.

"Are we ready, team?" Gwenog asked. More of a demand, really. Ellie lifted her bat like they were already champions.

"Let's go, Gryffindor!"

" _And please welcome...Gryffindor!_ " 

They piled from the changing rooms in a cacophony of roars and tangled ankles, streaming onto the pitch to deafening cheers from the crowd.

Io's feet thudded into the grass and the sound rung in her ears, anticipation and euphoria and terror filling her throat.

Her broom tail skimmed the grass, robes sweeping her legs, the sun waving through a window of grey cloud, high above. High above, where she was meant to be.

They all stumbled to a stop at the centre circle, and Io fumbled to pull her goggles over her eyes. She had to stop herself from checking up with James and Caine about the start, because today she was Seeker. Today was about the Snitch.

The ball box jumped and rattled menacingly, and Hooch put a foot on it to stop it from falling over itself. She already had the Quaffle in her hand, and her whistle in the corner of her mouth.

"Captains, shake hands," she barked, around the edge of the whistle. Gwenog stuck out her hand and the Horned Serpent Captain, the wide-shouldered Keeper, grabbed it and shook it, once. They shared a freezing glare that could have called snow down from the patchwork sky, and then they turned away from each other.

" _And the Snitch is being released!_ " called the commentator, as Hooch bent down towards the box. " _Gryffindor have Io Brewsam in Seeker position today: keep an eye on the right ball, Brewsam!_ " Io cursed him out violently in her head.

Hooch clicked the clasps open and nudge the lid back. The Bludgers, as if they'd sensed the touch of the open air, seemed to struggle more than ever. Hooch unstrapped the Snitch, and without flourish, threw it straight up, into the sky. Io watched it, head tilted back, but then it flew into the sunlight and disappeared.

She looked back at Hooch, heart thumping, a black circle hanging fuzzily in her vision.

Next, the Bludgers. They whizzed out of the box with joyful abandon, and Hooch bounced the Quaffle in her arms.

"Mount your brooms," she snapped. They all did so, and Io braced one foot against the ground. "Three... two... one..." she blew the whistle, launched the Quaffle, and the game began. James flew right onto the ball, banking right to avoid an opposing Chaser, and then Io pushed off and lost sight of him because she was _flying again_.

Warm air turned to windy streams, the ground was swallowed up below her by the ever-increasing gap of air between her feet and the grass, and her fingers gripped the handle, and she was back where she belonged.

Gryffindor scored within the first few minutes and Io, already bored, did a few little spins to celebrate. Horned Serpent's Seeker was drifting aimlessly a few hundred yards away, every so often blowing a fringe out of his face.

She kept an eye on him and an eye on the game and one more eye, if it was possible, searching for the Snitch. Her heart was still thrumming, singing painfully in her chest, beating in time with the cheers of the crowd.

†††††††††††††††††††††

He'd _promised_ her that he'd be there. 

Bloody God-damned Mulciber.

Evans slid to his knees in front of the hearth and chucked Floo powder haphazardly among the coals.

"Malfoy Manor," he snapped, and the coals huffed and puffed, spitting off green sparks, and then Mulciber's head _popped_ into the grate. 

"Afternoon, Rosier." There was a smile on his face. Evan wanted to grind Mulciber's grinning teeth into the glowing logs.

"You can't come back here," Evan said. "You need to find the Knights, alright? You need-" he stopped. Mulciber was sniggering. Evan's fingers itched to grab at his windpipe and _rip_. "You think this is funny?" he hissed. His knees were bruising on the hard floor, but he leaned forward anyway. "You almost killed two people. You defied Lucius _directly_ , and if I didn't have any sense, I'd drag you through this damn fire and give you to Bella directly!"

"Missing your girlfriend's Quidditch match?" Mulciber replied, mockingly. Evan felt his own jaw twist with dislike.

"You stole her letters," he said, for some reason. Mulciber's face quirked guiltily, sadistically. "Why?"

"Thought Malfoy'd want to know where they were coming from, so he could keep a watch on her family," Mulciber replied, as easily as if he was recounting the weather. Evan tried not to tense up.

"Alright," he said, against his better will. "Fine." He sat back on his heels. Mulciber started to grin again. "Stop _laughing_ ," Evan growled. "Azkaban's a lonely place for murderers."

"Haven't murdered anyone yet," Mulciber said, and the lightness in his tone wrenched terror from somewhere deep inside Evan, igniting a realisation of just how dark this really was.

"Planning something, are you?" Evan spat. Mulciber shrugged.

"Haven't decided. Maybe I'll nip round to the Rosier mansion and have a go at little Felix-" Evan lunged, forgetting that it was a fire, and his hands passed helplessly through the green flames. How _dare_ he? Mulciber dodged anyway with that low laugh, and Evan ground his teeth, soot slipping over his fingernails.

"You'd better hope the Dark Lord wants you," he growled. "Because if you come back here, I'll kill you myself." He slammed a hand into the fire, spraying soot and sparks everywhere, and Mulciber's grin disappeared in an instant.

Somehow, it hadn't made him feel better.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io rearranged herself on her broom, and swayed away from a Bludger. The match was getting boring: they were tied, forty-forty, and there had been no sign of the Snitch so far.

" _Gryffindor score! That's fifty-forty to the lion's house, keep it up, Hogwarts! Nice shot from Potter there, tricky angle to make but he did it! Alright, and Horned Serpent in possession of the Quaffle, better get into the game, there, Bowlby._ "

The Horned Serpent Seeker was leaning back on his broom, utterly at ease, barely even bothering to look at the match. 

Horned Serpent were closing into a formation, spearheaded, headed right to goal. Andrew bobbed readily in the air, but even from this distance, Io could see his anxiousness. James and Caine were wheeling around and trying to catch up, and Tilly was dodging Bludgers. Io made up her mind and dived.

She swooped right through the formation, scattering two Chasers and alarming the third. Someone's robe whipped painfully along her cheek and she swerved to a halt to look up.

The formation was gone. The Chaser was approaching the goals alone.

" _Some fantastic in-game tactics from Brewsam, really helping out her fellow teammates. Keeper Fleming ready in goal...Chaser Cornhall with the Quaffle...he shoots! He- he...Fleming saves the goal! Good on you, Gryffindor!_ "

Half the stands whooped, half of them groaned, and Io grinned as Andrew swooped out of his dive, Quaffle in hand. A job well done. Andrew chucked the Quaffle into the fray, and Io turned back to surveying the match. 

Still no sign of the Snitch, but the opposing Seeker was all the way on the other side of the pitch, and if he saw the Snitch before her, he'd win Horned Serpent the game. She leant forward and shot off across the pitch.

Io drew level with the Seeker just as James scored another goal, and the crowd cheered, startling the Seeker. He looked over. Io pretended to be scouring the pitch. He edged away, and she rolled her eyes.

" _And that's sixty-forty to Gryffindor! Horned Serpent, time to get your head back in the game!_ "

Caine took possession of the Quaffle, but half a second later, the whistle blew for a rest and the teams started to drift slowly downwards, Caine tossing the Quaffle over his shoulder to James with palpable disappointment.

"We're doing well, twenty points up," Gwenog said, as soon as they'd all touched down. "Tilly, I need you more involved, please. We've lost the Quaffle twice because the other two didn't have a second option." Tilly nodded meekly. "Io, good work on breaking formations, keep an eye out for the Snitch." Gwenog's eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, the very picture of hard work.

Io was bored and sweaty and very out of her depth.

"Ellie, three point the next time they break a pincer, yeah?"

"You got it," Ellie replied, smoothing her palm over her bat and eyeing the other team. Gwenog nodded.

"Alright. Keep it up, lions. Grab some water and let's get back out there, yeah?"

They pushed off again a few minutes later, and there was a collective rustle from the crowd as all the students sat back down and started to pay attention again.

Io launched off from the ground, overshot, and ended up hovering about twenty feet above the action, sharply staring around the pitch, hoping for a glint of gold. Now would be a good time for the Snitch, especially with the Horned Serpents getting more and more aggressive.

She watched two opposing Chasers close down on the goals, tossing the Quaffle back and forwards over poor Tilly's head, and then one slipped past Andrew on his left side and scored. Io had to stop herself from biting through her tongue in annoyance.

Half the stands cheered, and the commentator whooped and clapped.

 _"Horned Serpent are back in the running! This is proving to be an interesting match, now!_ "

Io licked her lips and glanced around as Horned Serpent, once again, tapped the Quaffle out of Tilly's possession. 

"Come on," she hissed. "Where are ya, you little bugger?"

" _Horned Serpent approaching the goal, yet again! She feints, she throws...it's a score! Sixty-sixty! Come on, Gryffindor!_ "

A gleam, a sparkle, and Io turned fully towards the glint in her peripheral...but it was just Ellie's earrings, catching on the sunlight, and Io braked, grinding her teeth in frustration.

" _Horned Serpent score again! Seventy-sixty!_ "

The Gryffindor Chasers were getting tired, and Ellie's hits were getting wider and wilder. Eventually, one Bludger sailed right past Io's ear instead of into the Horned Serpent's Chaser's stomach, and Gwenog lost it at Ellie, screaming with all her might for about ten seconds until she got her head back in the game.

" _That's another goal for Horned Serpent! Ilvermorny are now twenty points ahead!_ "

No sign of the Snitch. Io divebombed a few formations to make herself feel like she was doing something, and then she went back to surveying the match.

" _Ninety-sixty to Horned Serpent!_ "

"Get it together, Potter!"

"Caine, fucking go!"

"Tilly, chuck us! Tilly! Fuck!"

"Io, get down here!"

"Io, what are you doing? Get higher!"

"Protect the goal, Brewsam!"

"Bludger!"

Io rolled away from the Bludger, but it crunched into her knee and she howled in pain, barely managing to stay on her broom.

Agony shot up her thigh and she clenched her teeth so hard they made a nasty sound. She slumped over her broom handle, tears collecting in her eyes.

" _One hundred points to Gryffindor's sixty!_ "

" _Another goal to Horned Serpent! One hundred and ten to sixty!"_

Io hissed out a breath and tried to make her pain-dulled eyes focus. She'd drifted too low, but everyone was too caught up in the match to check on her.

She took a moment: she let the pain ricocheting up her leg turn into spite, and then she yanked her broom handle upwards and rejoined the game.

" _It's a goal! One hundred and twenty to sixty!_ "

" _Horned Serpent score, one hundred and thirty to sixty! Come on Gryffindor, we know you've got it in you!_ "

James battled two Chasers out for possession of the Quaffle and finally, finally, he had a clear path to goal. One of the Horned Serpent Beaters spotted a Bludger and an opportunity, and Io dived after him, angling right between the bat and the Bludger.

 _Stupid idea_ , but then both heavy things hit her from both sides and the world rocked like a top-heavy cradle. More pain, bursting along her side and her shoulder and her hip and still her knee, tendrils of hot agony, the broom handle slipped from between her fingers. 

She wouldn't fall...

Io could see, through a fog and a confusion, and one foot was firmly tangled around her broomstick.

She wouldn't fall...

_Stupid idea._

Her head was muffled, was dizzy and dull. Nothing existed for a second, no chilled air, no harsh sound, no winking sunlight. It was a peaceful kind of grey silence.

One point of contact, her skin against the wood of her broom as one finger brushed the handle.

Like a wave that had drawn away too far, everything rushed weakly back at her. 

The sky unfolded with dusty weariness, the grass, staining the ground a bright colour, and gasps and cheers and the echoing, muzzled sound of the megaphone, and the thin feel of wood beneath her fingers.

Io grasped at the handle and fell with her broom, and, two metres from the ground, she caught herself, she rolled, she hung on with gritted teeth, and skimmed away across the pitch, gasping for painful air.

" _Gryffindor scores! That's one hundred and thirty to seventy, and Io Brewsam recovers, some-bloody-how...sorry, Professor!_ "

"You good?" Gwenog called, from far above. Io raised a hand with a twinge of pain, pushing her broom into a climb, up to the other Seeker's level. She squinted at the ground, feeling more than a little nauseous. Now would be a really good time for the...Snitch?

" _Has Horned Serpent Seeker Keel seen the Snitch?_ "

He had, and Io had seen it too - fluttering aimlessly at the base of Andrew's middle goalpost. 

For half a second, Io's pulse slowed to nothing. Adrenaline seethed like an addiction.

They both dived at the same time.

The world narrowed to the Snitch and her broom.

The wind slicked raw against her cheeks, and Keel was right beside her, their robe tails intertwining, limbs brushing. 

The ground loomed like a storm, and they were almost perpendicular to it now, diving straight down, two gravity-racing bullets.

The sun flickered dully on the Snitch's wings. Her gloves creaked as she raised a hand, the air diving up under her sleeve, chilling her arm. Her hair streamed out behind her like a banner, and the air screamed past her ears, slipped cold fingers into her lungs. 

There was a rush in her stomach, the kind of thrill that climbed her throat and burned itself into her eyes. The Snitch darted left and right, and Io urged her broom faster into its vertical dive.

Eight feet from the Snitch and the base of the goalpost, and Keel flicked his fringe out of his eye. The slightest movement twitched his broom handle and threw him off course, straight into Io as she snatched with heavy fingers at the Snitch.

They tumbled sideways and down, and Io tried to turn, to move, but Keel had his arm up and flailing, and one caught on her collar and wrenched her down with him.

Keel hit the base of the post and ploughed into the ground and Io, slapping at his wrist with one hand, turned her broom with her knees and a sheer force of will and she slid away, toes scraping the ground as Keel rolled to a sickening stop.

The Snitch was...the Snitch was in her hand! And she yanked her broom handle up and raised her arm, the fragile wings slippery with butter-like sun, and the stadium burst into chaos.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Sirius thundered down the stairs at the head of the crowd, already hoarse with cheering, ecstacy filling his head with smoke.

They charged across the pitch to where the Gryffindor team was huddled, slowly sinking to the ground, and every thud of his foot into the grass was a triumph in itself.

Someone was screaming behind him, hollering in wordless euphoria. Sirius threw himself into the team huddle with reckless abandon, and everything became a whirl of red and gold and sweat and grass stains.

He struggled to the centre, and she was still mounted on her broom, her arm stuck straight up in the air with the Snitch in her first, wings beating weakly, helplessly.

The scar on her forehead, like a perpetual laughter mark, because it only deepened when she grinned.

There was something silver and utterly ridiculous in her eye, like the shine of a priceless, intangible thing. Sirius jumped on her with all his long limbs and trembling excitement, and the entire huddle fell to pieces, into a broken pile of limbs and laughter on the grass.

Somewhere above them all, Io was still waving the Snitch like a battle flag.

†††††††††††††††††††††

There wasn't a single person in Gryffindor house (and beyond) that night who didn't get drunk.

Lily ended up dancing in jeans and a garish blouse on the study table.

Peter drank every sixth year under the table, and some of the seventh years, too.

Remus spent most of the night with his arm draped around Ozy's shoulder, some kind of delirious look on his face.

Dorcas Meadowes joined them halfway through the night, and she marched through the common room without ceremony, right up to Marlene.

People stepped away to make space, clearing a messy path with stumbles and whistles.

Dorcas didn't waste the journey it had taken from the Slytherin common room: in front of half the school, she grabbed Marlene none too gently by the collar of her jacket, and kissed her long, hard and happy. 

When they broke apart, someone whooped, and the room dissolved into drunken glee, but through the cacophony, the two only had eyes for each other.

Dorcas let go of Marlene's jacket and stepped very slightly away. She smoothed back a sprig of hair that had jumped loose, and pretended to look down her nose at Marlene, attempted to regain her composure.

"Marlene, if you ever get any of your friends to do a thing like that again-"

"You'll what?" Marlene challenged, a giggle slipping from between her lips. Dorcas stared at her. Tilted her head.

"You're fucking beautiful," she said, and she snagged Marlene's wrist and hauled her from the room. As she left, Marlene raised her bottle in the vague direction of the fire and Rio, ankles on Io's lap, grinned nervously at the toast.

The penultimate match had been the right time to prank the Head Girl in order to get her to loosen up for once, then. 

There was a scar on Io's forehead and a burning look in her eye as she recounted her dive in dramatic detail, and the only look she gave Rio made Rio's heart stop for barely a second.

Io's hand was on her shoe and one finger was accidentally brushing the skin of Rio's ankle. She wasn't sure she could take it much longer, but if she got up, it would end, wouldn't it?

Rio took a long swig of her drink and tried to snort at James Potter standing on his head without a shirt on. She took a longer swig and painfully pretended not to notice the way Io was staring over at Sirius every time he laughed.

†††††††††††††††††††††

"You'll write, won't you?" Sirius said, wistfully, as King's Cross Station started to fill the windows of the compartment.

"Course we will, numbnuts," James said, slapping Sirius on the shoulder. Io didn't reply. There was a hungry kind of terror writhing in her stomach.

Arule hadn't come to see her, not in the Hospital Wing, not after her exams or the match, or even at the House feast, where Gryffindor had been awarded the Tournament Cup, and Hufflepuff the House Cup.

She hadn't even seen him across the Hall.

Peter had his face pressed up against the glass, Remus was tucking his book away sadly, and Sirius was picking at his fingers.

The platform drew into view, heavy with steam and chatter, and Io sat back in her seat, not wishing to search through the haze for whoever would be taking her home.

The compartment door rattled open as the train slowed down, and everyone looked over.

"You're coming home with us," said Darwin, without preamble, without sparing a glance to the others. He was tapping a fingernail impatiently on the glass of the door, looking over his shoulder every few second.

Relief filled Io's head like a painkiller, and in an instant, the tightness left her shoulders and the strain drained from her face.

"Really?"

"Really," Darwin said. "Be quick about it, though. See you on the platform." He disappeared, and Io sunk her head into her hands, her heartbeat thudding in her neck.

The train jerked to a stop, and someone's hands came down on her shoulder softly. Io jerked away on instinct, looking up, and Remus's worried, patient face filled her vision.

"Hi," she said casually, trying to still the tremble in her fingers.

"It'll be alright," he said. "Believe me." Io grabbed him with both arms and sunk her forehead into the worn shoulder of his jumper. She wasn't going to cry. She was going home with Darwin. Everything was alright. Maybe she'd even get to see Daisy.

After a few seconds, there was a heavy weight on her side, to tell her that Sirius and Peter had joined in the huddle, and a moment later, James hauled himself upon them with a snort of glee.

The train jerked to a stop, and the group stayed there for a second, wrapped around each other, savouring the happiness of something they'd all miss in the long months to come.

†††††††††††††††††††††

Io ducked through the steam and the happy families with something less than bitterness in her stomach. Darwin was ahead of her, hauling his battered trunk along with jolly carelessness.

She couldn't have been less excited for the holidays, especially as with every step, she felt Hogwarts fade a little more from her mind. As she approached the barrier, it seemed to vanish to just a golden, watermarked paper copy of a memory, something washed-out and far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ravenclaw's Regrets
> 
> Posting in 1-4 days
> 
> Look out for it ;)


End file.
